Praesentia
by TwilightSorceress
Summary: Sequel to "Alesco." Voldemort now possesses the power of the Siren. How will the trio (and Hogwarts) fare against his newly-gained power? R-Hr is the primary couple. Romance, Drama, Action-Adventure.
1. Unhappy Holidays

Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling, but I bow to her intellect and offer this humble work of fiction. This is all hers (except for my original characters)---I am just borrowing it. No profit is being made from this story.  
  
Praesentia [presence of mind]  
  
[A/N: This is a sequel to "Alesco." I strongly suggest you read that story first, as this one will make very little sense if you don't.]  
  
*  
  
Chapter One---Unhappy Holidays  
  
*  
  
Harry felt himself awaken from a deep sleep, and he swallowed happily. In a moment, he would take a shower and get ready to meet Susan outside, on the Quidditch pitch. They'd sit and talk about their previous day, and Susan would tease him with kisses.   
  
Harry stretched, and smiled. He started to push the quilt off his body, and at once realized he wasn't at Hogwarts.  
  
He was at the Burrow.  
  
And Susan was dead.  
  
Grabbing his pair of glasses on Ron's bedside table, Harry pushed them onto his face and looked about Ron's room. The weak sunlight was filtering dimly through Ron's window, and it cast a faint light on Ron's empty bed.   
  
Harry didn't even need to ponder where his friend was. He had a good idea. He figured if he looked inside Ginny's room, Hermione's cot would be empty, too.  
  
He let out a frustrated growl. Harry'd only been at the Burrow for four days, and Ron had been missing from bed two out of the four mornings. The first morning it had happened, Harry saw Ron and Hermione looking at each other with glowing faces.  
  
Harry hated not being able to feel happy for them. In fact...Harry almost despised the fact the Ron still had someone to hold onto. The worst part was how terrible Harry felt thinking that way, and how he continued to berate himself.   
  
Harry let his body fall back onto the cot, and he closed his eyes. He rubbed his forehead....and rubbed it some more.   
  
He had another problem; one that he hadn't told anyone about.  
  
For the first time in approximately seven months, his scar was beginning to burn again. The first time was several days after Voldemort escaped Dumbledore in the Dark Chamber. Harry knew what it meant. It meant that Ron's powers wouldn't be able to protect him from being possessed by Lord Voldemort.   
  
Harry simply didn't have the energy to tell anyone what was happening to him. After all, Harry barely even cared any more. What did it matter if he died? After all, the prophecy made by Trelawney was ridiculous, Harry thought. Why be a prophet if you can't even determine which way things will turn out?  
  
Deep inside, Harry knew he was being an imbecile. But it was much easier to be an imbecile than have everyone worry about him. He was well-and-truly sick of everyone mollycoddling him.  
  
Harry looked at the door when he heard it click open. He could hear whispering outside the door, and finally Ron tiptoed in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Harry didn't even pretend to be asleep. Ron noticed, stopped walking, and stood staring down at Harry.  
  
"Morning." Ron said, in a deadpan voice.  
  
"Screw you." Harry said very softly. He didn't truly intend for Ron to understand what he had just whispered.  
  
Ron scoffed, and shuffled quietly to his bed. He fell onto it, pushing off his slippers with his toes. "That's an awfully kind thing to say to your friend," Ron muttered dryly.  
  
Harry rolled over, facing away from Ron, and pushed his glasses off and let them fall onto his cot. "I don't even know why I came," he said, and let out a sound full of his frustration and anger.  
  
Ron said something obviously foul under his breath, and then uttered rather loudly, "Okay, if you want to be that way, I don't know why I invited you!"  
  
Harry knew he deserved it, so he didn't say anything.  
  
He could hear Ron rustling about on his bed for several moments, and finally Ron spoke.   
  
"Look, Harry, if you would have felt better wallowing in guilt at Hogwarts all Christmas, then fine by me. My mum and dad really wanted you to come, and when I invited you, so did I. But let me tell you something....if you don't stop being a git and ruining everyone's holiday, then I'm going to make you...." Ron stopped at that, and then groaned.  
  
Harry rolled over, and put his glasses back on. He was angry. "You'll get inside my head, right? You'll make me stop being an ass? Why don't you do it right now, huh? I WANT you to." He sat up, and started to point to his forehead. "I want you to tell my brain Susan isn't dead. Tell me it never happened. In fact, why don't you just tell me that she never existed? That would be perfect!"   
  
Harry was no longer speaking out of anger. He was pleading--and he could hear it in his own voice. He stood up, and walked closer to Ron, gesturing frantically to his head.  
  
Ron's mouth was open now, and he was gazing glassy-eyed up at Harry.   
  
"Do it, Ron, do it! Make me forget! Please, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY MORE!" Harry was screaming now, on his knees in front of Ron.   
  
Something strange was overtaking Harry. His scar was gradually burning hotter, and his head felt like it was going to explode.  
  
Harry reached out, and was about to put his hands around Ron's neck, when Harry heard it. He heard the sound of "Weasley is our King."  
  
And there was peace--and the pain in the scar was dulling.  
  
Had Ron actually done it? Had he...?  
  
No. Susan was still there, still in his mind. He still loved her, and she was still dead.  
  
Harry was crouched in front of Ron, head in his hands, when the door flew open. Hermione was standing there in her pyjamas, along with Ginny and Mrs Weasley.  
  
Ron sat up. "It's okay," he said numbly.  
  
"Are you sure?" Hermione rushed into the room, and knelt beside Harry. She put her hand on his shoulder. "What happened?" She looked to Ron for the answer.  
  
Ron shook his head, and avoided Harry's eyes.   
  
"It was nothing," Harry muttered stoically. He shrugged off Hermione's hand and got up to sit on his cot.  
  
Hermione was giving Harry an odd look, and he saw her look at Ron. Ron's look was full of implication, and Harry saw Hermione nod. At that, Hermione turned to Ginny and Mrs Weasley. She went to the door, and whispered something to Mrs Weasley and Ginny. Mrs Weasley gave Harry a long, pitiful look before moving from the doorway, and Hermione walked out as well.  
  
But Ginny stayed. In fact, she was shooting Harry a rather dirty look. She walked into the room, and right up to Harry.  
  
"I know what's going on. You're feeling sorry for yourself again. I'm getting tired of it. We all know it's been tough, but you've gotta snap out of it. Just think of all the people we've lost...all the people we might lose. You can't give up now! You just can't!" Ginny was speaking very loudly, and shoving her forefinger at him.  
  
Harry stared at her as she shouted at him, and felt himself smile. He liked having someone shouting at him for a change. He was sick of everyone tiptoeing around him, speaking softly to him, giving him looks of pity.   
  
Without realizing why he was thinking it, he decided she was exactly what he needed to lift his spirits. He began to laugh.  
  
Ginny stopped in the middle of her continuing tirade, and glared down at him, hands on hips. "What do you think you're doing? This isn't funny!"  
  
Harry noticed Ron staring at them both, his mouth gaped again.  
  
Before Harry could say anything, Mrs Weasley walked into the room.   
  
"Come along, Ginny." She said rather haughtily, and grabbed the girl's arm. "Leave Harry in peace."  
  
"No, mum." Ginny wrenched out of her mother's grasp, and Harry heard Ron gasp. Harry was quite surprised himself at her boldness. He didn't think he'd ever heard any Weasley child simply say "no" to Molly Weasley before.  
  
Mrs Weasley's response was not what he expected. She wrapped an arm around Ginny's shoulders, and said lovingly, "Please, dear. Please come downstairs and help your mum with breakfast?"  
  
Ginny appeared surprised, as well. She looked up into her mother's face, apparently trying to read her expression. After a long moment, giving one quick glance to Harry, she let her mother lead her out the door. Before it was closed softly behind them, Mrs Weasley said, "Be down for breakfast in thirty minutes, boys."  
  
"Yes, mum," Harry heard Ron say automatically.  
  
Harry avoided Ron's eyes as he readied himself for the busy day. It was Christmas Eve, and it had already begun rather drearily. Harry really couldn't have expected anything less than a terrible Christmas, and it seemed that expectation was coming true.  
  
Harry remembered that he needed to wrap the presents he had bought for everyone--presents he had purchased after Susan was killed. They were presents marred by Harry's grief.  
  
Harry felt the all-too-familiar nausea rise in him when he thought about Susan's death. This time, though, it was accompanied by the dull burning in his scar.  
  
He inwardly groaned, and put his hand to his scar again.   
  
When he looked up, he realized Ron was looking at him, concerned. Pulling his hand from the scar, he grabbed his dressing robe and headed out the door to take a shower.  
  
Under the hot spray of the shower head, Harry looked back on the morning...and a terrible memory came to his mind.  
  
He closed his eyes, and remembered seeing himself reach out to wrap his hands around Ron's neck. Why had he done that? He just wanted Ron to help him.  
  
Maybe that was why Ron hadn't said what had happened to the others.   
  
Harry shook his head, hoping he had an answer to the questions swirling in his mind.   
  
But nothing came. Nothing ever did. 


	2. Yule Attack

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Two---Yule Attack  
  
*  
  
Ron couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong with his friend...but every attempt to pull the information out of Harry had failed.   
  
After Harry returned from his shower, Ron managed to mutter something to Harry about his scar. Harry scowled at him and said nothing. He proceeded to pull on his clothes and run downstairs.   
  
At breakfast, conversation bounded between Fred, Bill, Charlie, George, and Ginny. Ron remained relatively silent, watching his two best friends. Hermione had an imperceptible expression on her face, and she didn't eat very much. She kept eyeing Harry and playing with her food. Ron caught her eye, and she sighed, dropped her fork onto her plate, and crossed her arms.   
  
Ginny appeared to make every effort to glare at Harry all morning.   
  
It was silly, Ron knew, but every now and then he swore he saw Harry looking idly at Ginny, as well.   
  
As soon as Ron ate the last of his ham, he witnessed Harry silently stand up and run upstairs. Ron's mum tsked, rose from her chair, and gingerly took Harry's half-full plate. Silence reigned at the table for a long time.   
  
Soon after, as everyone dispersed from the table, Ron grabbed Hermione's arm and pulled her aside into the sitting room.  
  
Hermione was the first to speak. "What do you think is wrong with Harry?"  
  
Ron scoffed. "Besides the obvious? Wallowing in his guilt?" He paused, as Hermione gave him an arch look. "Okay, you're right, something is definitely wrong. That's what I wanted to talk to you about."  
  
Hermione nodded. "What happened this morning?"  
  
Ron shook his head. It had been rather eerie, seeing Harry reach out for his neck. "I'm not sure. Harry just started to...." Ron hesitated, not sure if he should tell Hermione what had happened. She'd become more worried that necessary. But should he tell her about Harry's scar?  
  
Hermione was looking up at him expectantly, apparently waiting for him to continue. After a brief moment, he said, "I think Harry's scar is hurting him again."  
  
Hermione exhaled loudly. "I was afraid of this."  
  
Ron felt his brow furrow as he looked down at her. "You were?"  
  
Hermione's warm eyes locked with his, and she briefly smiled at him. The smile was gone quickly, however, as she said, "Yes. Just think about it! Before, Voldemort had access to Harry through his curse scar. When you gained the Siren powers, you blocked that ability. Now, your Siren powers are equal to Voldemort's, so there's no longer anything blocking him from accessing Harry."  
  
Ron frowned. "So--what do we do?"  
  
Hermione sighed, and rubbed the back of her neck. "The most obvious thing would be to get word to Dumbledore. Harry might not like it, but Dumbledore has to know."  
  
Ron nodded. "Let's write a letter to him tonight."  
  
Hermione smiled, and reached out to take Ron's hand. "We'll get through this."  
  
Ron wished he had as much faith as Hermione did.   
  
~*~*~  
  
The rest of the day passed normally enough, despite the unusual morning. Harry secluded himself, ignoring everyone's attempts to bring him into the family's activities. Ron helped Hermione write a letter to Dumbledore, and they dispatched it late that night.  
  
Christmas morning arrived, and the family gathered to open gifts; Harry would not join them. The atmosphere was subdued, to say the least. Ron's father spent much of the morning looking toward the windows and the fireplace, apparently anticipating something. A worried look creased his father's brow, and Ron was about to say something, when he heard a loud WHOOSH from the fireplace.  
  
Soot flew everywhere, as Remus Lupin stepped into the room. Ron's mum and father rushed to meet him. As he was brushing soot off his cloak, the three spoke in hushed tones for a moment.   
  
Ginny, Fred and George stood up to greet him, and Ron looked at Hermione. She smiled, nodded to Ron, and moved to sit closer to him.  
  
Lupin said something quietly to Ron's parents, and gave the everyone a big smile. He looked tired, and Ron realized that a full moon had just passed. His hair was much more grey than it ever had been. For the first time, Ron wondered why Lupin hadn't come to see Harry before.  
  
"Happy Christmas," Lupin said, his voice revealing how tired he truly was.  
  
As the rest of the family echoed this sentiment, Lupin stepped over to pat Bill on the back. "We're all glad you came out okay," he said to Bill, and Bill nodded down at him.  
  
Ron took the opportunity to study his eldest brother. Bill had tiny scars all over his body, except for his face. His face did, however, reveal several scars given to him when the Death Eaters had beaten him.   
  
Ron swallowed his rising ire, as Lupin was now looking at him. "How's Harry?" he asked.  
  
Hermione stepped up, at that. "He's not doing very well. In fact...he's much worse than last year." She gave Ron a look, as if to have him confirm this.  
  
"She's right. And....it's not only that." Ron opened his mouth, and was about to speak, when his sister spoke up.  
  
"Can you knock some sense into him?" Ginny blurted. Ron looked over to see her with her fists on her hips. He smiled briefly. Her look was so typical.   
  
Lupin was eyeing her, and nodding. A corner of his mouth twitched, as he said, "I'll certainly try." His look became serious. "But...you've got to understand, Harry's lost someone he truly cared about--at least, from what I've heard."  
  
Ron's mum entered into the conversation. "That's what I've been trying to tell you, Virginia Weasley." She glared at Ginny, her eyebrows arched.  
  
"Mum, I know what he's been through! Why doesn't he just talk to us, instead of sulking about?"   
  
Hermione, now sitting close to Ron, said, "That's not like Harry, Ginny." She turned back to Lupin. "I think he needs you, Professor, to help bring him out of this."   
  
Lupin nodded, and began toward move to the stairwell. Ron's mum briefly whispered something to Lupin, and then Lupin headed up the stairs.  
  
Hermione was grasping Ron's hand tightly, and Ron noticed his mother looking at them pointedly. Ron flexed his fingers, and Hermione let go of his hand.   
  
Apparently she hadn't let go fast enough. His mum walked over to speak with his father. While Ginny, Fred, Charlie, George, and Bill were talking to each other, his parents walked over to them.  
  
"I was hoping we might have a chance to talk to you both while you were here, Hermione." Ron's mum said softly. Ron noticed that his father's ears were turning red.  
  
Ron groaned. He had a bad feeling about this.   
  
His mum gave Ron a chastising look, but before she could say anything more, an owl flew in through the fireplace. It dropped a bright yellow envelope into Ron's father's outstretched hands.  
  
Ron's mum eyed the envelope worriedly. "Oh, Arthur...not today!"  
  
His father said, "Yes, Molly, I suspected something might happen." He hurriedly opened the envelope, read the letter, and then shoved the parchment back inside. Slipping the envelope deep into his pocket, he said, "I've got to go. Don't worry the others."  
  
Apparently the others had overheard. "What's wrong, Dad?" Charlie was standing now, looking toward them.  
  
"I've got to go. There's been an attack."   
  
Bill stood up, too, rather slowly. He winced. "Today? How could they?"  
  
"Oh, they could. It's the perfect opportunity, too."   
  
"Can we help?" Charlie said, and appeared anxious.   
  
His father turned around and gave Charlie and Bill hard looks. "You're both to stay here, unless you're called for. Do you understand?"  
  
Fred spoke up, then. "Can you at least tell us where the attack was?"  
  
His father hesitated. "I fear the attack was on Hogwarts."  
  
Ginny, Fred, and George all stood up in tandem. They started speaking all at once.  
  
"Hogwarts?"  
  
"How bad is it?"   
  
"I thought that was impossible!"  
  
Ron bit his lip, and thought about some of the students he knew were still there. Why had Hogwarts been attacked? Many of the students had left for the holidays...only some of the staff and....  
  
Ron emitted a loud grunt, and everyone turned to him. He blurted his first thought.  
  
"Malfoy is there. He's there with Professor Dumbledore--remember his punishment? But why would they...?" Ron's voice lost momentum, and his father sighed.   
  
"I think the Order has some ideas about--" His father began to say, but his mother cut him off.  
  
"You'd best get going, Arthur, before they wonder what kept you." She reached out to hug him, and kissed his cheek.   
  
"I'll be back as soon as I can, I promise." He turned to give Hermione and Ron a quick look. "We'll, uh, all talk later." His ears reddened slightly before he disaparated.  
  
Ron knew Hermione was looking up at him, and he felt his ears reddening just like his father's. He had a feeling he knew what his parents wanted to talk to them about. It was going to be truly embarrassing.   
  
He pushed those worries aside, and was astonished to hear shouting from upstairs. After a moment, it subsided, and he heard someone run down the stairs.  
  
Ron knew something was wrong the moment he looked at Harry's face.  
  
Harry was scared. In fact, he looked petrified.  
  
"I...I don't know...upstairs." Harry stuttered, and gazed up the stairs.  
  
"What's wrong?" Ginny said loudly, and this time Ron heard concern in her voice.   
  
"Help him...." Harry said, and then slumped wearily against the wall.   
  
Ron was puzzled. Acting on instinct, he rushed to Harry's side. Ginny and Hermione joined him.   
  
As the rest of the group ran upstairs, Ron grabbed Harry's shoulders. Harry was limp, and Ron shook him.   
  
When Harry finally opened his eyes, Ron stepped back.  
  
A familiar, chilling feeling swept over him. It was intense, so intense it nearly took his breath away.   
  
Without thinking, Ron shouted, "Don't look into his eyes!"   
  
Hermione and Ginny were clever enough to heed his warning, and Ron grabbed Harry about the shoulders again. This time, he pushed a command.  
  
"Harry..close yourself to him. I know you can do it."   
  
Harry nodded, and closed his eyes again. In a moment, his body was no longer limp, and he opened his eyes.  
  
"What happened? Lupin! Is he okay?" Harry shouted.  
  
Ron turned to the stairs, just in time to see Fred run into the room.   
  
"What did you do to Lupin, Harry?" Fred looked confused.  
  
"I don't know." Harry moaned. "I just...I don't know. I can't remember." 


	3. The Test

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Three---The Test  
  
Fred eyed Harry for a moment, and then his brow furrowed.  
  
"Well, he seems fine now. He was unconscious on the floor, and Mum charmed him with something. He woke up right away. You must have hexed him or something. But why?" Fred scratched his ear as he gazed, puzzled, at Harry. Bill and Charlie became visible in the stairwell. Ron's mum and Lupin were right behind.  
  
Ron stepped forward. "Professor Lupin, are you okay?"   
  
Lupin chuckled, and rubbed the nape of his neck. "I'm fine...." He turned to Harry, and his face became grave. "I would like to know how you did it, though, Harry."   
  
Ron turned to look at Harry, who was visibly shaken. "Did what, sir? I don't remember anything!" Harry muttered in a frustrated voice. Hermione was holding Harry's arm, and then she stepped forward and placed her hand gently around Ron's.   
  
"Harry doesn't remember, Professor. What exactly happened to you?" She asked, her brow furrowed.  
  
Lupin let out a short grunt, opened his mouth, and was about to say something, when there was a loud pop. Ron's father appeared right in front of them, appearing very perturbed.  
  
He looked to each startled face in turn and finally stated, "Either someone's got a really bad sense of humor, or we're in loads of trouble."  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione sat curled on the love seat, with Ron close beside her. Mrs Weasley was sitting in a rocker near them, and Ginny and her other brothers were crowded on the couch. Mr Weasley, Lupin, and Harry were in the other room; and Mr Weasley was talking loudly to Cornelius Fudge via floo powder. Everyone was silent, hoping to hear their conversation, but unfortunately it was too muffled....by magic, apparently. Bill squirmed in his seat, and Hermione recognized the look of frustration on his face. He'd wanted to accompany his father and Lupin when they spoke with the Minister, but after a loud argument, Bill returned angrily to the parlor.  
  
Mrs Weasley wrung her hands and eyed the parlor door worriedly. Hermione turned to look at the door, wondering what had brought Mr Weasley back so soon from Hogwarts.   
  
They hadn't had a chance to find out what had happened at Hogwarts, as Mrs Weasley, Lupin and Bill had pulled Mr Weasley aside the moment he'd returned. They had spoked together quietly, and then Lupin and Mr Weasley had asked Harry in to the fireplace.   
  
It was as if the attack on Hogwarts hadn't happened--if it had, Mr Weasley would have been gone longer than this.  
  
Hermione turned around again, clutching Ron's hand tightly, and felt someone's eyes on her. She looked up, and saw that Mrs Weasley was eyeing them intently. Hermione felt the urge to let go of Ron's hand, but something stopped her.   
  
She didn't want to hide from anyone her feelings about Ron. And...the way Mrs Weasley was looking at them wasn't disaproving. In fact....Mrs Weasley almost looked...relieved.  
  
Hermione smiled at Ron's mum, and Mrs Weasley smiled back weakly. Hermione just happened to catch Ron's eye, and she saw he was blushing again. At that, Fred coughed, and Ginny made a little sound as if to say something. Thankfully, Ginny was interupted when Mr Weasley returned to the parlor.  
  
"Harry is going with Remus to St. Mungo's for the night. Harry told us...." Mr Weasely's voice ebbed wearily.  
  
Ron broke away from Hermione's grasp and stood up. "Dad, I need to tell you-"   
  
Mr Weasley put up his hand. "Harry explained everything. I know you helped him, Ron. That's why Professor Dumbledore is going to join Harry at St. Mungo's. Dumbledore will let us know if he wants you to come to St. Mungo's, as well. For now....the Healers want to see if there's anything they can do to block whatever's....whoever's accessing him."   
  
"What about Hogwarts?" Bill asked loudly, a hint of irritation in his voice.  
  
Mr Weasley turned to him. "Hogwarts was never attacked. I arrived, and everything was as it should be. The letter I received was genuine, so I contacted the Ministry of Magic. They looked into the matter, and found that some employees experienced temporary amnesia. We don't know who did this for sure....but we can guess."  
  
Voldemort, Hermione thought. He was.....  
  
"Testing us!" Hermione blurted loudly.  
  
Everyone turned to her. She leaned back into the cushions of the love seat, and looked into the face of each person around her. Her face burned, as she hadn't intended to say it out loud at all.  
  
After a moment, Ron settled next to her, and said very quietly, almost as if to Hermione personally. "It's Voldemort. He's testing us."   
  
Hermione turned and smiled at his profile. She was proud of him. Looking up at Mr Weasley, she said, "Exactly. He's testing all his powers, trying to see what he can and can't do."  
  
Mr Weasley smiled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "That's what Dumbledore thought, too. Cornelius Fudge was harder to convince." He pursed his lips and grimaced. "It's why Dumbledore wants Harry at St. Mungo's tonight. Who knows what Voldemort's capable of doing if he's using Harry as a conduit for his powers?"  
  
Hermione felt a little nauseated as she saw Charlie sit up straighter at that. "What exactly did Harry do to Remus?"   
  
Mr Weasley shook his head. "We're not certain, and that's why Remus went to St. Mungo's as well. He's going to be examined thoroughly. He only remembered screaming and feeling incredibly hot, and then he lost consciousness. Harry was glaring at him, saying very strange things..totally unlike him, from what Remus said."  
  
Mrs Weasley stood up at that, walked over to her husband, and turned back to the group. "All right, I think we've had enough excitement for the morning. Why don't you all help yourselves to some pie?"  
  
Charlie, Bill, Fred, George, and Ginny stood up slowly and began to walk toward the kitchen. As Ron rose from the love seat and started to pull Hermoine up with him, Mr and Mrs Weasley stopped them. Hermione noticed that the others were oblivious as they talked amongst themselves and entered the kitchen.  
  
Mrs Weasley looked pointedly up at Ron and took his arm. She then gave Hermione a warm glance, and said softly, "Why don't you two come upstairs with us? We have something very important to discuss with you."  
  
Ron let out a load groan, but Mr Weasley tut-tutted. He looked very awkward, and let out a little cough.   
  
Mrs Weasley was tugging on Ron's arm, and Hermione was about to tug on his other one, when Ron muttered unexpectedly, "I already know what you want to talk about, Mum."  
  
Mrs Weasley looked taken aback for a brief moment, and then she straightened. "I'm afraid it's a little bit more urgent than that, Ron." At that, she gave Hermione a very long, pointed look.   
  
For the first time under Mrs Weasley's gaze, Hermione felt very uncomfortable. Mrs Weasley was analyzing her...and it was very disturbing.   
  
Mr Weasley spoke suddenly, as he tugged at his collar. "Please come with us. It's important."   
  
Hermione felt Ron's body relax, as if defeated, and he slowly moved toward the stairs, pulling Hermione with him. Mr and Mrs Weasley followed them up the stairs and ushered them into their bedroom.  
  
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
OK...that's a good place to end, heh-heh!   
  
I'm sorry I've been "gone" so long. I've just been taking the break I told you about before. I'm going to try to update a bit more frequently, and I know this chapter was really short! I had to get something out there so you still know I'm alive!  
  
As always...any feedback is loved and appreciated! 


	4. Herneith's Curse

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Four---Herneith's Curse  
  
*  
  
Ron's body was on fire as his parents sat in the two chairs near their bed. As Hermione settled on the end of his parent's bed, still clutching Ron's hand, he hesitated. Should he sit next to Hermione on the bed? How would that look? Hermione let go of his hand and gave him a hard look.   
  
At long last, after eyeing his parents and Hermione uneasily, he sat down gingerly next to her. He left plenty of room between them.  
  
His mother was speaking, and Ron hadn't heard a word she'd said. After a moment, he forced his mind focus on her words.  
  
"...and that is why I asked you up here. You both have become very close, we can tell. That is why we need to tell you about....the curse."   
  
Ron was puzzled. He watched as his mother turned to his father and grasped his hand. Ron's father looked rather grave, and also embarrassed. Finally, it dawned on him.  
  
"Curse? What do you mean?" Ron blurted loudly, and he could feel nausea in the pit of his stomach. He was afraid to know what she meant. He thought he had an idea....but it couldn't be....  
  
His mother remained silent for a few moments, before giving his father a quick look. He saw his father swallow, and then nod. His mother turned back to look into Ron's eyes.  
  
"Ron....don't you remember the story....about the Weasley curse?" Her voice was strained, so different from usual.  
  
Ron felt his jaw drop, as Hermione turned to him, a confused expression on her face. Turned back to his parents, he said loudly, "You mean....that story you told Ginny and I before bed? What do you....I mean..." Ron's face burned, as realization came over him.  
  
His mother nodded. "Yes, Ron. That's precisely what I'm talking about."  
  
Ron shuddered, and then said slowly, "But...I thought that was just a bedtime story. I had no idea....that it was real. You can't mean..." Ron shook his head, unwilling to believe that the Weasley curse was real. It couldn't be....or could it? After all...Bill and Charlie had never gotten married. And neither had Percy.  
  
Hermione made a loud sound next to him, and finally she said silently, "Well...um, are you going to....?"   
  
Ron could see his mother nod out of the corner of his eye, as if allowing him to tell the story. He shook his head, and turned to face his mother fully. "I think you should tell it, mum--and dad--I can barely remember it." He rubbed his head, still afraid to contemplate it was true.  
  
His mother nodded, and his father remained silent, looking at the floor. His mother spoke. "Well, it all began centuries ago."  
  
She turned to Hermione. "The first Weasley ancestor...we believe...was born very long ago...possibly 5000 years ago. To tell you the truth....we wouldn't even know that, if the curse wasn't..."  
  
Ron's father looked up at that, and he appeared very angry. He muttered, "We didn't tell you, Ron, because we didn't want to worry you. After all; there was no need. Until now..." He turned to give Hermione a quick look. Then he fell silent again.  
  
Ron felt a numbness flow all through his body, realizing why his father was so upset. It all made perfect sense....  
  
He turned to watch Hermione, as his mother sighed and appeared to collect herself, before continuing with the story.  
  
"Yes, well..." His mother swallowed. "We understand that the first Weasley mother was an Egyptian woman named Herneith. She was a queen, and ruled the kingdom while her husband was away at battle. The legend says that Herneith was a powerful sorceress...she had the power to do both good an evil.  
  
"While her husband was away...she used her powers to travel great distances in order to employ..." She stopped for a moment. Then she smiled. "I remember how we told you this story when you were young, Ron. We always said Herneith was lonely--so she gathered friends. In truth....she only wanted male friends." Ron saw his mother shuffle a bit in her chair, and Ron's face burned hotter than before.   
  
After a moment, Ron risked a look at Hermione. She was leaning forward, hanging on his mother's every word. Ron swallowed as his mother began again.  
  
"Herneith was not native to Egypt. We believe she was born in Western Europe, but we don't know for sure. That was why she traveled as far away as the British Isles...to gain these--friends. One of those "friends" was named Wesand--at least, that's what legend says."  
  
His mother paused for a moment to give Hermione and Ron a glance. Satisfied she had their attention, she continued.  
  
"Wesand, we believe, was rather pale and blonde, while Hernieth had light brown hair--at least, that's what legend tells. Once Herneith selected Wesand to be her...companion...from a group of eligible young men, she brought him back to Egypt with her. And legend says that while Herneith was married to her dark-complected, dark-haired husband...she bore a pale, red-haired son."  
  
Ron began to remember the intricate details of the story as it was being told, and he cringed. It was still hard to believe the story was actually true. He didn't want to hear it; he didn't want to know what might mean for the future.  
  
He had no choice but to listen as his mother continued.  
  
"The king shunned Herneith, and married her sister. As all this transpired, Wesand fell in love with a young Egyptian servant girl, and they ran off together. Herneith was enraged...both because her husband had cast her aside...and because her lover had betrayed her. So she cast a curse...a curse that effected the son of her and Wesand.  
  
"The curse was designed so that her son, and the sons of his sons, would never be able to marry any woman not specifically chosen by Herneith. She didn't even care that her son might end up without a wife or children to carry on the bloodline. It mattered very little to Herneith; she was so enraged.   
  
"To uphold this condition, Herneith used her powers to create a curse. The curse meant that if they did marry someone inappropriate, they would die."  
  
Ron sat up straight, as a chill ran down his spine. He felt Hermione shudder next to him. He turned to her, concerned, and felt the urge to take her hand. When he did, he felt how cold she was. Her face was pale.  
  
He risked a glance at his mother. Just as he did, he heard Hermione say something softly beside him.  
  
"So...how did Herneith keep track of...the wives?" Ron turned to Hermione again, and saw that she was looking at their locked hands. He grasped her hand tighter.  
  
His mother spoke up. "For many years, she approved the wives herself. She used her powers to outlive her normal life span. After many years, she finally realized she couldn't live forever. So...." She stood up at that, and crossed over to her wardrobe, and pointed her wand at one of the panels.   
  
Ron watched, transfixed, as his mother muttered something, and a hidden drawer popped open. He felt his mouth drop open, as his mother lifted a very old wooden box from the drawer brought it to them.   
  
She opened the lid of the box, and sitting inside on a ragged piece of green cloth was a worn brown limestone tablet. It appeared to have once had writing etched into it, but it was now worn to a point where none of it could be deciphered.   
  
"This is called the Wesele stone. Wesele is believed to be the original name Herneith bestowed on her son, and it has carried on and eventually became Weasley.   
  
"Any woman intending to marry a Weasley male must touch the stone. It's believed Herneith cast a powerful spell on it--one that can judge a woman's character as fitting to the Herneith strength and determination. She left much of her own personality in this stone, to make sure that someone fitting was chosen as a Weasley mate." She sighed, and stepped back to sit down--leaving the box open on her lap.   
  
"The only drawback is this...once a woman touches the stone, there's no turning back. If the stone glows green, Herneith approves. If the stone turns blue....."  
  
Ron couldn't hold back, and blurted loudly, "If the stone turns blue, there's no hope for you." Ron groaned. It was something Bill and Charlie used to kid about with each other all the time, and Ron hadn't understand it. Every time they said it, and Ron asked them to explain, they had refused.   
  
His mother nodded. "I assume you heard that saying from Bill and Charlie?" She didn't wait for an answer, but tut-tutted and looked a bit miffed. Ron nodded, and his mother sighed.   
  
"Well...it's more complicated than that. Once a woman touches the stone, they're either committed to a Weasley for life, or they can never see that Weasley again. If the son ignores what the stone indicates, or they marry an inappropriate woman....they will die."  
  
Ron heard Hermione expel a great deal of breath beside him. After a moment, there was silence in the room, and Ron's father awkwardly squirmed in his chair.   
  
Ron spoke up. He could no longer hold back everything he yearned to say.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me all of this before?" He let go of Hermione's hand, stood up, and crossed his arms.  
  
His mother arched an eyebrow at him, and said softly, "You said yourself, we told you when you were young."  
  
"I told you, I thought it was a story! I had no idea it was real!" Ron felt ire rise in him. "And what about Bill and Charlie? Have they had anyone touch that thing? They obviously knew about all this....why didn't they tell me?"   
  
"We told them...just like we're telling you...when we believed there was a young woman becoming close to one of them. And yes...those women did touch the stone. You can guess the result." His mother pursed her lips, and fiddled with the lid of the box in her lap. "We told them it was best we explained it to you when you were older....it would make it easier for you. And before you even ask..." She turned to Ron's father. His father broke his long silence.  
  
"The curse is real. Men have died, Ron. One of my brothers was one of them. I never told you about him. For centuries, Weasley men refused to be ruled by the Herneith curse. They paid the price. And there's no countercurse...at least, none that we've been able to come up with." He sat back and rubbed his face, and he had a defeated look in his eyes.   
  
Ron turned as he heard Hermione speak all of the sudden. He could see her perched at the corner of his parent's bed, leaning forward, both hands clenched on her knees. "So, Mrs Weasley...when did you touch the stone?" Her voice gradually became more soft, as if she was afraid to ask the question.  
  
"I touched the stone when I was your age, Hermione." Mrs Weasley smiled. "It's best to try early on...before..." The smile on her face waned. "But you must understand...if you touch the stone, you will be committed. If it turns green, you will need to...." His mother stopped, and Ron couldn't meet her eyes as he stood with crossed arms.   
  
"Marry Ron." Hermione finished the sentence, and the silence in the room became deafening. "And if it turns blue...I can never see him again."  
  
Ron clenched his fists. How could this happen? What kind of choice was this damn curse having to make for him...for Hermione?   
  
Before he could contemplate it any further, he saw Hermione stand up.   
  
She walked quickly toward Ron's mum, and stretched her right hand toward the open box on his mother's lap.  
  
Dozens of thoughts raced through Ron's mind in that short moment. What if the stone turned green, and he would know Hermione would have to marry him? Would she really want to marry a Weasley? What would her parents say?   
  
But if the stone turned blue, he'd never see her again. Well, he would at school...but he'd never be with her again. He'd never touch her, kiss her, make love to her...ever again.  
  
"No, Hermione, don't touch it!" Ron uttered urgently, and stepped forward to grab her.   
  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Okay...I know this chapter may have been a bit confusing. Please email me if you have a specific question about something that didn't make sense, and I will consider editing the story to clarify.   
  
Thanks, and please remember all feedback is loved and appreciated! 


	5. Conscious and Unconscious

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Five---Conscious and Unconscious  
  
*  
  
Hermione's mind was racing as she reached out to touch the sinisterly smooth surface of the limestone tablet, which was nestled in an ancient green cloth.   
  
She had to touch it; she had no choice. There was no way she could get closer to Ron, to continue loving him, and then find in the end it was all in vain.  
  
It was best to end it now....before the pain was too hard to bear.  
  
As her fingers hesitated in the air over the stone, her hand became intensely cold. It felt as though she was placing her hand over a huge ice cube.   
  
A chill raced over her spine...she closed her eyes, and leaned forward.....  
  
Without warning, Ron shouted behind her. He grabbed her, and turned her about.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes and looked up into Ron's. She realized how cold her hand was now, practically frozen....and she wasn't even sure she had touched the stone....  
  
"Why did you do that?" She blurted loudly. Ron was looking down into her face anxiously.  
  
"I--you can't--we're too--it's just..." Ron stuttered.   
  
Hermione flexed her numb fingers, and felt nausea in the pit of her stomach. "Ron, I have to. Please...."   
  
Hermione heard Mrs Weasley clear her throat loudly behind them. Hermione turned to look over her shoulder at Ron's mum.   
  
"Listen to her, Ron." She stopped at that, but Hermione could tell she really wanted to say more.  
  
When Hermione turned back to Ron, he was looking down at her with an indescribable expression. "Hermione....can't we just...wait?" Ron's hands were clenching her upper arms now, and Hermione pulled away.  
  
Softly, she said, "We can't wait. It'll be harder if we do." Looking at the floor, she said even more softly, "But I love you, Ron. If you want to wait..." Hermione felt tears welling in her eyes.  
  
She didn't want to be in the room anymore...with Ron's parents looking on, and Ron--  
  
Still looking at the floor, and feeling her face grow hotter, she shuffled out of the room.   
  
~*~  
  
As Hermione curled up on the cot in Ginny's room, she clutched a pillow and buried her face into it. Her face was so hot, she realized she must be as red as any Weasley when they were embarrassed. She didn't need to have anything to feel embarrassed about, and that was what upset her. She had told Ron how she felt about him in front of his parents...and he was being...oh, how could he?  
  
Hermione pressed her face deeper into the comfort of the pillow and let out a heavy sigh. Gasping for breath, she pulled the pillow away and groaned. She had some ideas why Ron was hesitant in allowing her to touch the stone; there was no question she was terrified herself.   
  
But it had to be done. There was no way to avoid it.   
  
Curling tighter, she clutched the quilt behind her and pulled it over her body. Above Ginny's room, Hermione heard a faint moan from the ghoul in the attic, as a hard winter wind buffeted the Burrow's walls. Hermione rolled to her left side and saw something white drift across the window.   
  
It had begun to snow.  
  
Hermione closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to drift to Harry. She wondered what could possibly be done at St. Mungo's to prevent Harry from being possessed by Lord Voldemort.   
  
Pushing all thought from her mind, while hearing the comforting voices of Ginny and her brothers in the kitchen below, Hermione allowed her weary body to drift into a troubled slumber.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Harry tried to ignore the pulsing in his temple as he squinted at the many fireplace grates whizzing before him. Finally, before he felt as though his stomach could take no more, he was hurled into a grate of an unfamiliar fireplace. Lupin was standing near the fireplace, speaking quietly to a Healer's assistant. When Lupin saw Harry, he became quiet and avoided Harry's eyes. Harry noticed the assistant was doing the same.   
  
Harry frowned. So that was how it was going to be. Everyone would treat him just like Dumbledore did last year. It made perfect sense.  
  
The anger simmered inside him. What could Healers could do to help rid his mind of Voldemort? It was pointless, really, in even coming here.  
  
Harry tried to glare at Lupin, but Lupin didn't look at him. Harry opened his mouth, and was about to say something, when there was a loud clatter behind him, accompanied by a faint pop in front of him.  
  
Someone must have come through by floo powder, because at once Harry was bumped hard in the back and he fell, sprawling, to the floor.   
  
As Harry expelled air, a familiar voice snarled above him.   
  
"Hey, you stupid--"   
  
Harry rolled over, and his eyes widened. He was looking at none other than Draco Malfoy. Strangely enough...Malfoy's nose looked a bit crooked than the last time Harry had seen him.....  
  
As Draco stood up, a intensely disgusted crossed his face. "YOU, POTTER? Ack!" Draco rubbed his hands on his perfectly pressed black trousers, still eyeing Harry with undisguised loathing. Draco was wearing a jumper that was of a putrid green color over a grey shirt.   
  
Just as Harry noticed soot all over Draco, and began to feel amused for the first time in the day, he heard another familiar voice above beside him. Looking up, he saw Dumbledore...and once again, he noticed the professor was avoiding looking directly into his eyes.  
  
"Young Mr Malfoy!" Dumbledore said harshly.   
  
Harry shuffled to his feet and tried to dust himself off. Harry saw Draco shuffle over to Dumbledore, a decidedly angry look on his face.   
  
Harry felt the gentle pressure of a healer's hand on his arm. Dumbledore stepped over to Harry, keeping one eye on Draco. Without looking into Harry's eyes, he addressed him. "Harry, I've come to....see you admitted. I hear you....had a bad run-in with one of the Weasley twin's sweets....I understand you...lost your memory?"  
  
Harry turned to Lupin, confused. Suddenly, it dawned on him. Dumbledore had taken Draco for the holiday, and that's why Draco was here....but Dumbeldore couldn't let Draco know what was wrong with Harry....so.....  
  
"Uh...yeah...I guess. You called me..Harry?" He said hoping the look on his face was convincing enough.  
  
"Hah-hah-hah, Potter!" Malfoy bellowed suddenly, and knelt as he laughed loudly.   
  
Dumbledore let out a loud sigh and walked up to Harry. He knelt down and whispered in Harry's ear. "I came by to see that you made it all right. We're not sure the Healers can help, but it's worth a try."   
  
Standing slowly, Dumbledore pulled back and gave Harry a pat on the shoulder. Harry saw his small smile, and tried to look into his eyes. He locked onto Dumbledore's eyes with his own for a brief moment.....  
  
Without warning, Harry's scar began to burn and pulse more rapidly than before. Harry gasped and grasped his forehead. Darkness was enveloping, and Harry felt as though he was fainting.   
  
The last thought he had before darkness blurred his vision was the realization that this was exactly the way he felt before waking to find Lupin unconscious on the floor that morning.  
  
~*~  
  
"Harry? Harry...."   
  
Harry moaned, and opened his eyes. The room he was in was very dark, and he was stunned to realize that his arms were strapped to...something. To the bed?   
  
"Harry?"   
  
There was a faint light to his left, but everything was blurry. His glasses were gone...and he couldn't see. But the voice...the voice was...familiar...  
  
"Luna?" It was a bit inconceivable that she would be here...but in some way, it made sense.  
  
"Harry, you're awake!" Luna said in the most excited voice he'd ever heard her use before. She was speaking very softly, however. Harry thought he saw a figure move across the candlelight beside him.  
  
"Where am I?" he muttered, wishing he could sit up.  
  
"You're in a closed ward." Luna whispered. "I'm not supposed to be talking to you...but I heard you were here. I heard them say something about...not looking into your eyes. Did a farklebeetle bite you?"   
  
"Huh?" Harry wiggled, trying move closer to Luna's voice. What had she said? Farklebeetle?  
  
"Oh, never mind...they're dormant in the winter." Luna sighed. "I'm just glad to see you're all right."  
  
Harry squirmed, as he became curious. "Hey, wait a minute, why are you here? Are you okay?"   
  
There was a soft chuckle beside him, and Luna moved closer to him; he could feel her breath on his ear.  
  
"Yes, well, I'm perfectly fine! I'm here because my dad was doing a bit too much of holiday celebrating and got in a brawl....oh, it's a long story. It was some sort of debate....anyway, he was hit with some sort of charm and they're trying to sort it out. Things like this happen all the time...I'm sure he'll be fine. You can tell by how the Healers talk to one another." Luna began to sound rather bored by the end of her explanation, while Harry was more intrigued.  
  
"So...uh....did you hear them talking about me?" Harry muttered, not really wanting to hear her answer.  
  
"Oh, yes. That's why I snuck in here." Luna said matter-of-factly, and Harry was surprised to feel the corners of his mouth lift in a small smile.   
  
"Well...what did they say?" Harry whispered uncertainly.  
  
Just as Harry thought Luna would tell him what he needed to know, Harry heard a door open and light flowed into the room.  
  
"Luna Lovegood....how did you get in here?" Lupin's stern voice cut into the darkness.   
  
Harry heard Luna emit a frustrated sound, and to his astonishment he felt something soft and warm brush his cheek....Luna's lips.   
  
"I'm sorry, Harry," Luna said in a defeated voice.   
  
Harry heard something shuffle beside him, and then heavy footsteps rush from the room. He could barely see the figure of his new godfather framed by light in the doorway.   
  
"Professor...what's going on?" Harry muttered, his voice sluggish.  
  
There was a loud sigh, and Lupin didn't enter the room. After a moment, Lupin said softly, "I'm so sorry, Harry...we're still.."  
  
Harry blinked, confused, as he heard Lupin mutter something. Harry saw a brief flash of dark blue light before he became dreadfully drowsy. He tried with all his might to fight against the incredible urge to sleep, but he could not.  
  
"Pleasant dreams," Harry heard Lupin say sadly, as Harry gave into the urge to fall into a deep sleep.  
  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 


	6. Consilium

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Six---Consilium

* * *

Ron watched Hermione leave with a sense of desperation. Lifting his arms and sighing heavily, he was about to follow her when he heard his father clear his throat behind him.  
  
Turning, Ron's eyes fell first on his mother. She wore a sort of sad, frustrated look, but when she saw him looking at her, she sat up straight.  
  
He turned to his father, and was surprised to see the look of disgust on his face. Ron was taken aback for a moment, until he realized why his father was upset. Ron opened his mouth, about to say something, when his father beat him to it.  
  
"Let her be."   
  
Ron's mother turned abruptly to his father, and her look was one of disapproval. "Dear, I don't think-"  
  
His father held up a hand. "This is a lot to take in at once," He looked up at Ron, and swallowed. He seemed to be considering his next words.   
  
Finally, he asked softly, "Do you love her?"  
  
Ron felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach. It was the first time his father had ever asked him something so personal; he took in a deep breath and blurted without thinking, "Yes."  
  
He watched the reactions of his parents as if it was the first time he'd ever seen them. His mother looked pleased, and his father's eyes twinkled. It was nice to see them so happy even with everything that had happened. He felt his face grow warm, and he looked at the floor. "So...um...I do," he muttered.  
  
His mother's hand reached out and grasped his shoulder. She pulled him close, and sat him down on the footrest in front of her chair.  
  
"Now, Ron....I need to ask you..." his mother whispered. "Have you two...?"  
  
Ron grew hotter then he ever imagined possible. His mouth was dry as he stared at his clenched hands. Glancing upward awkwardly, he blurted, "Aw, mum, don't ask me that!"  
  
"You don't need to answer, dear. It's obvious you have. Now...I can't say I'm entirely pleased about this.." She put her hands on his shoulders and squeezed tightly. "But I can say you've made an excellent choice. Now let's just hope the stone...."   
  
Ron looked up at his mother, a great feeling of pride in his belly. He saw his mother let out a heavy sigh, and give him a stern look. "You are being careful?"   
  
Ron immediately looked down at the floor again. He nodded mutely, his face still burning with embarrassment.   
  
Feeling a pat on his shoulder, he heard his mother say softly, "I'd think nothing less of Hermione, but of course I needed to check. And I also need to give you a word of advice..."  
  
Ron looked up at that. His mother had a hard look in her eyes.  
  
"Until you know what the stone says, it would be best not to-"   
  
Ron pulled away. "I know, mum." He stood up, running a hand through his hair. "Rotten stone...."  
  
He heard his father chuckle a bit at that, and chose to ignore him. As a dozen thoughts rushed through Ron's mind, he remembered something else that was bothering him. He turned to face his father fully.  
  
"You made a mistake having Harry admitted to St. Mungo's, Dad." Once the words had passed through his lips, he almost immediately regretted them.  
  
His father sat up at that. "I did, did I?" His expression was incomprehensible.  
  
Ron nodded, hoping he hadn't stepped over the line, especially following the conversation they'd just had. But he knew he had to tell them what he thought.  
  
"Dad, I can help Harry. I stopped him two times....I know it would be better if I was with him. What can St. Mungo's do to help Harry? I mean, nothing can resist this power..the Siren's the most powerful-"  
  
"I hear you, Ron," his father said abruptly. "There are many reasons why I chose to follow Dumbledore's advice...one being I want to protect each member of this family, namely you. True, you helped Harry those two times..but who can say what powers You-Know-Who might discover if he has contact with you through Harry? No, Harry needs to be at St. Mungo's for now. I'm sorry, Ron, but....it just has to be this way right now."  
  
"Dad..." Ron sighed heavily. "He can't learn anything from me! Siren power cancels itself out! There's no way I can give him-"  
  
His father stood up swiftly, and put up both of his hands. "Enough, Ron. And I didn't say he was going to be there forever, did I? We just need to be extra careful. Please trust me."   
  
Ron bit his lip, knowing further talk would achieve nothing. At least he'd allowed himself to be heard, even though it seemed his words had fallen on deaf ears.  
  
Numbly, he heard his mother say something about going downstairs to get some pie. He felt himself being ushered downstairs, and his mind wandered endlessly over the recent past events. Hermione, Harry...and Voldemort.  
  
Ron could barely eat the pie he was served, and barely acknowledged the curious and sympathetic looks his siblings gave him as he ate.

----------

She was walking down a very dark hallway, and she was sure that someone was following her. At the end of the hallway was a door she must reach, and her legs seemed as though they were plowing through a sea of water, and that she'd never reach that special door...the one at the end of the hall.  
  
I must get there, she thought to herself. If it's the last thing I do, I need to open that door.  
  
Clenching her fists, she willed herself to be stronger, to move faster. The longer and harder she tried to force herself to move faster, the more it seemed her legs were moving through liquid taffy.  
  
Screaming in frustration, she told herself she must get there. Mustering up the last of her strength, she heard a strange voice say something reassuring, and then her legs were free.  
  
She ran the last few steps to the door, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. As her hand closed over the cold porcelain door handle, the odd voice returned.  
  
Hesitating, she looked around, listening intently. Nobody else was there, she was utterly alone.  
  
But the voice remained.  
  
"I don't know what you're saying," she heard herself say, her voice sounding as though it came from someplace far away.  
  
The voice, which she now realized was feminine, was speaking again, more urgently. What is that dialect? I don't know, she told herself, and turned back to the door.  
  
But it was no longer there!  
  
"That's not fair..." she heard herself say softly, and she began to drift.

----------

"No fair!" Hermione heard herself shout, waking herself from sleep. She sat up immediately and rubbed her eyes.   
  
"What in the world was that about?" Ginny's voice said, and Hermione turned to see her sitting on her bed.  
  
"Oh, Ginny," Hermione said weakly. She felt tired, drained. Almost as if she'd been trying to get to that door for real. "Just a really strange dream. It was nothing."   
  
As the words fell from her lips, a niggling thought began in the back of her mind. What if it wasn't nothing?   
  
She shook her head. She was putting far too much into a silly dream. Lavender and Parvati were influencing her more than she realized, she thought fiercely.  
  
"Where's Crookshanks?" Hermione asked suddenly, at that moment wanting her ginger cat intensely. It would be nice to cuddle with the great fuzzy cat...well, as long as he'd let her.   
  
Ginny looked up briefly from the newspaper she was reading. "He was downstairs, and I think Fred and George were feeding him some pie. I told them not to, but-"  
  
Hermione sighed heavily and put up her hand. "It's all right, I'll go down and see that he's all right."   
  
As she headed to the door, she heard Ginny's voice say softly, "Hermione?"  
  
Turning around, she saw Ginny looking up earnestly at her. "What happened....I mean, with you and Ron and my parents?"  
  
Hermione had guessed there would be questions. "I'm sorry, Ginny...can I wait to talk to you later about that? I really...I'm just..." She felt tears prick the corners of her eyes.  
  
"All right," Ginny said softly, and stood up. "I'd like that..to talk later, I mean."   
  
To Hermione's surprise, Ginny took her hand.   
  
"You know...I saw Harry looking at me oddly recently. I mean, it seemed almost like...well, he had this strange look in his eyes. Not the kind of possessed look, or anything; something else." Hermione saw Ginny swallow. Opening her mouth, Hermione was about to tell Ginny she didn't need to say anything more, Ginny continued.  
  
"I guess that...it's sort of the way I wished Harry would look at me for a long time. Only....I..." She shook her head. "I don't feel for him like that anymore. I love someone else."   
  
Hermione watched as Ginny looked guiltily at the floor, and her face reddened. "I really love Neville...but there's also a small part of me that..." Ginny made a sharp noise from deep in her throat and Hermione reached out to comfort her friend.  
  
"Ginny...I hate to say this, but Harry has just lost his first love. Maybe you are misinterpreting how he was looking at you. It's possible he may see you as...." Hermione stopped, unwilling to say what she truly believed.  
  
Ginny nodded. "I hope so; I hope it's nothing. It's just, Harry can be so infuriating; I want to shake some sense into him sometimes."  
  
Hermione smiled and nodded. "You're not the only one."  
  
Ginny looked up, her eyes narrow with worry. "Do you think he's all right?"  
  
Hermione gave her a long look. "You mean, at St. Mungo's? It's probably the safest place he could be."  
  
"I can't believe Voldemort is possessing him." Hermione felt Ginny shudder violently, and then she said breathlessly, "I mean, it's terrible, it really is. He's controlling him, just like he did with me."  
  
Hermione almost fell over as Ginny flung her arms around her. Hugging back tightly, she closed her eyes.  
  
That was when Hermione got the most intriguing idea....not really an idea, but a wisp of one.

----------

Harry awoke from a sleep plagued with disturbing images.  
  
He was surprised to see that his glasses were back on, and Lupin and Dumbledore were looking down at him; and they were still avoiding his eyes. The room was cheerfully lit and bright with candles.  
  
"Harry? How are you feeling?" Lupin asked huskily.  
  
"Fine. What did you do to me?" He recognizing the angry tone in his voice.  
  
"I made you sleep."   
  
Harry sat up, and was glad to feel the straps tying him down were gone. "What are you...I mean, why..."  
  
Dumbledore tut-tutted, and put a hand on his arm. "We've asked the best Healers to examine you with magic, of course, and we feel we've done the best we can to prevent any ugly incidents like the ones before--"  
  
"Ones? What happened?" Harry asked sharply.   
  
Dumbledore put his hand up. "Nothing for you to worry yourself over, it's done now. In the morning, you will be returning to the Weasleys to conclude your holiday. When you return to Hogwarts, the real healing will begin--and I daresay your friend Mr Weasley will be all too willing to help us."  
  
Harry grinned, feeling truly happy for the first time that day. "You mean Ron, right?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, I feel that it's safe...for now."  
  
"Safe?" Harry looked with curiosity to Dumbledore.  
  
Lupin grasped his shoulder. "Never you mind, now. Try to get some more rest."   
  
Harry lay back and closed his eyes. He heard Lupin muttering something, and the calming darkness crept over him.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ 


	7. In Two Days

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Seven---In Two Days  
  
----------  
  
Hermione tiptoed down the stairs, painfully aware of the late hour. Biting her lower lip, she let her thoughts wander to her theory about Ginny. If there was something valid in what she was thinking....  
  
She shook her head, unwilling to allow herself to get too anxious about it.   
  
Before reaching the bottom of the stairs, she let out a few soft clicking sounds with her tongue. Crookshanks normally came when he heard those sounds, as Hermione was accustomed to give treats by it.  
  
Tiptoeing to the bottom of the landing, she saw a few lit candles on the kitchen table next to a chess board and what appeared to be a half-played game.  
  
Taking in a deep breath, Hermione allowed herself to consider that Ron might be downstairs. A tight knot of anxiety developed in her belly. She had planned to speak with him the next day; she didn't think she was ready to hash it all out tonight.  
  
Biting her lower lip harder, she tiptoed toward the table and looked about. The room appeared deserted. She reached out to touch one of the discarded chess pieces.  
  
Breathing in deeply, she felt the hairs at the back of her neck raise as a warm hand clapped onto her shoulder.   
  
Letting out a startled shout, Hermione turned around and gasped. "Ron, what are you doing?"  
  
The look on Ron's face was nearly as startled as hers must have been. "Hermione, I'm sorry!"  
  
Hermione tried to calm her increased heart rate as she gazed into his eyes. Swallowing, she suddenly noticed that Crookshanks was cradled in Ron's arms, and appeared to be deep asleep.  
  
Ron looked down, and then cleared his throat. He glanced up and said softly, "Were you looking for him?" He moved forward to hand the cat over.  
  
Hermione instinctively moved forward, too, and reached out to take Crookshanks.  
  
Halfway through the exchange, Ron hesitated. Hermione risked looking up, and noticed his face was very close to hers. She swallowed, and felt as though Ron's eyes were reaching into her soul. "Hermione," he whispered, and then his lips were on hers.   
  
Allowing herself to be swept away briefly, Hermione sank into him, making sure not to crush Crookshanks in the process. After a few seconds, she pulled away abruptly. Putting one hand on Ron's chest, and using the other to grasp Crookshanks tightly, she began, "Ron, I-"  
  
"I'm sorry about-" Ron was saying, and Hermione fell into silence. Ron did as well, and all Hermione could hear was their heavy breathing.  
  
Hermione allowed her hand to caress Ron's chest and looked into his eyes. Their eyes caught and held for several moments, and Hermione felt a intense surge of emotion rush through her body. She could feel herself tremble violently, and she felt cold and ill.  
  
Crookshanks stirred in her arms and let out a groggy meow. It was interrupted by Ron's husky voice.  
  
"You're shaking, Hermione," Ron sounded intensely concerned, and he put an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward a chair. She sat down automatically, trying to calm Crookshanks in her arms. Ron pulled a chair up next to hers, and pulled her into his arms.  
  
Hermione knew she had to say something, but she couldn't dredge the words from deep inside her. It seemed that anything she might say at that moment would be looked upon in the future as being somehow wrong. Instead, she allowed herself to be held, drawing strength from Ron even in the silence.  
  
After what seemed like a very long time, in which Crookshanks settled down again and went to sleep in their combined laps, Ron pulled away a short distance. Hermione closed her eyes, and finally said in a whisper, "You know what I want to say."  
  
She glanced up to see Ron nod sharply, but he didn't look into her eyes. Hermione's heart swelled with love for this boy--this man...and she reached a trembling hand to take his.  
  
The strength of Ron's hand around hers was a revelation.  
  
Without thinking, Hermione blurted, "I had a dream-"   
  
Feeling herself frown, she shook her head. Where had those words come from?  
  
Ron was looking at her strangely. "A dream?"  
  
Hermione inhaled, and then spoke on the exhale. "A dream--it was nothing. In fact, I have no idea why I just told you about that." Putting a hand to her forehead, she shook her head again pursed her lips.   
  
Ron reached up to take the hand from her forehead, and he cradled it in both his. "If you mentioned it, it must be important. I know you, Hermione. Even if you didn't mean to say it; it's important to you." His eyes were looking deeply into hers again, and she smiled.  
  
"All right...I'll tell you about it. I mean, it was nothing, really. Just a dream about me walking toward this door...and this strange voice telling me something. In fact..." Hermione sighed, and felt like rolling her eyes. "Do you remember Harry telling us about how Voldemort tricked him into going to the Department of Mysteries? This dream actually reminds me of what he described. You know, needing to get to a door or something. My subconscious is probably feeding off that memory--"   
  
"Subconscious?" Ron muttered loudly.  
  
Hermione looked hard at him. It suddenly dawned on her that in the wizarding world, dreams meant something--usually about the future; there was no subconscious--Ego, Superego, or Id. At that, she promptly rolled her eyes.  
  
"Merlin's sake, Ron, you really should have taken Muggle Studies. You know you can still--"  
  
"This isn't the time for talk about school," he growled, giving her an irritated look. Hermione almost pulled away, but realized it wasn't his fault he had't been taught psychology. Ron began to speak again, and Hemrione allowed herself to concentrate on his words.  
  
"...and this dream could be important. Maybe it's just telling you that you're going to discover something in the near future; that would make total sense. I'm not sure about what the voice might mean--"   
  
Hermione sighed loudly. "Ron, I didn't think you believed in all that; I mean, didn't I hear you and Harry talking about how Trelawney assigned a Chapter on Dream Interpretation, and you refused to fill out the Dream Journal?"  
  
Ron fell silent for a moment before saying sharply, "Okay, you've proved your point. It's nothing."  
  
Nodding, Hermione moved a bit closer to Ron, and felt his hand reach behind her neck and start to play with one of her locks of hair. She chuckled a bit, and was startled when Ron spoke again.  
  
"I want you to touch the stone, Hermione."  
  
Hermione looked into Ron's face, surprised. He refused to look into her eyes. Hermione was about to open her mouth to speak but was interrupted. "I want you to touch the stone...I really do...but I'm so scared."  
  
Ron moved closer to her, and placed his forehead against hers. The hand he had been using to play with a her hair was now clenched on the back on her neck, and he moved closer still.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around him and held on tightly. Crookshanks stirred on their laps, but did not jump away.  
  
"I know, Ron. So am I. But I have to do it."   
  
She felt Ron nod against her forehead, and say softly, "Okay, let's make a deal. You touch the stone in two days...before we go back to Hogwarts."   
  
Ron was trembling a bit now, and Hermione hugged him a bit more tightly. In a shaky voice, she replied, "You've got a deal, Ron."   
  
Hermione sank into him, careful not to budge Crookshanks.   
  
She did not expect to hear Ron's next words; so powerful and so passionate.  
  
"Whatever happens, Hermione....I'll love you forever--I mean that...Merlin, I do!"   
  
Ron's arms tightened around her, rather painfully this time, and Crookshanks could stand no more. He meowed grouchily and burst out from between them, running upstairs.   
  
They pulled away reluctantly after a moment, and Ron grunted, "Sorry."  
  
"That's all right, he'll be fine," she replied, touching his face lightly.  
  
"No, not about that. About pulling you away from the stone."   
  
Hermione smiled. "That's all right...it doesn't matter anyway. In two days, we'll know..." She let her voice ebb into nothingness; unwilling to complete the sentence...unwilling to voice the dread that faced her.

----------  
  
Bright sunshine glared at Harry through the window, and he rolled over and looked about. His glasses were off again, and he rolled over to squint at the bedside table. Locating his glasses, he slipped them on and took stock of the room.  
  
He was lying on a hospital bed; the only bed in the room was his. Several chairs had been placed close to his bed, and bottles of potion were scattered about the bedside table. Harry wondered why they were there, but before he could think further, he heard the only door to the room squeak open.  
  
A blond head peered in, and Harry realized it was Luna. Instinctively, he gestured to her to come in, wanting someone to talk to....anyone. He rolled his eyes; vaguely thinking he must be desperate to want to speak with Luna Lovegood.  
  
He found himself taking back those thoughts immediately as Luna shuffled into the room stealthily and closed the door behind her. She'd been nice to him last night, and last year, for that matter. Maybe she had news of his condition, or what the Healers had said. At that, he slid to the end of the bed as Luna said in a whisper, "Oh, Harry, I'm glad you're up."  
  
She sat in one of the chairs next to the bed, and Harry asked eagerly, "Did you hear anything they said..about me, I mean?"   
  
Luna smiled, and whispered, "They seem to think you'll be okay, for now." Then her expression darkened. "But that's not the reason why I wanted to come in here to talk to you."  
  
Harry's curiosity was peaked. "What'd you hear?"  
  
Luna shook her head. "It's terrible, truly it is. I never thought anything like this would happen."  
  
Harry felt the irritation rising fiercely inside him. "What? What happened?"  
  
Luna's voice cracked a bit as she said, "An attack...Voldemort...people have died."  
  
"Who?" Harry nearly shouted; the door opened abruptly. Lupin walked in, his expression murderous.   
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


	8. Mysterious Ambush

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Eight---Mysterious Ambush  
  
-----  
  
Ron's heart beat fiercely as he watched the play of emotions on Hermione's face. She's scared, he thought; quite possibly as scared as I am.   
  
His mind wandered to the stone. He tried to imagine what it would be like....to see the stone turn blue, and to see the look on his parent's faces.   
  
He didn't even want to imagine the look on Hermione's face. The image made him sick inside; it made him angry.  
  
But then, if the stone turned green....he'd marry her.  
  
The thought made him dizzy; what if Hermione's parent's wouldn't understand? What would they say?  
  
The only other choice would be to end the relationship now; completely and totally, so Hermione wouldn't have to face such an ultimatum.  
  
Ron shook his head--hating to accept it as an option.  
  
Hermione was looking at him now, as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't form words. As her mouth opened, she let out a startled little gasp and looked down at her hands. Her gasp was followed by loud hissing sound from somewhere upstairs.  
  
Ron swiveled his head toward the stairwell, which was shrouded in darkness. Hermione clutched his shoulder violently, and Ron turned to her in concern. "Wha-"  
  
She clasped a hand over his mouth, and her eyes were wide with fear. Holding up her left hand to his face, Ron gasped when he saw the color of her ring.  
  
It was a bright yellow, and it was progressively getting brighter.   
  
Ron swallowed, now understanding her concern. Acting on instinct, he grabbed her tightly and pulled her under the table, into the corner shrouded in darkness--right next to the wall. He clutched her close to him. Pulling out the wand from the waistband of his pyjamas, he tried to control the sound of his breathing before whispering into Hermione's ear, "Do you have your wand?"  
  
Hermione shook her head no. "It's upstairs!"  
  
"Damn," he whispered violently. Dozens of thoughts passed through his mind; the safety of his parents, his sister, his brothers....and there was nothing he could do about it--they had to get out of the house.   
  
The heavy sound of footsteps (several pairs of them, it seemed) were thudding through the Burrow. Ron thought he heard several shouts and a scream, and he closed his eyes. If only he could focus on one of the attackers...  
  
But he didn't know where they were for sure. It was hopeless.   
  
Just as he was about to pull Hermione from under the table and drag her outside, another thought came into his mind. Why were they here? Why had they decided to attack the Burrow, at a time like this? Hadn't they done enough already, what with confusing them all in the fake attack on Hogwarts? Why would they choose--  
  
His thoughts turned cold as he heard loud thudding and footsteps coming into the kitchen. Grasping Hermione tightly to him, he willed himself to be silent. He only hoped they wouldn't use a locator charm....  
  
There were several more thud and gasps, and the sound of something (or was it someone?) being dragged. The sound of sobbing got louder and louder, and there were several more thuds and gasping sounds. Then there was a moment of silence, before Ron heard several people whispering and running downstairs, and a door thudding shut. Relative silence fell again, save for very loud shuffling upstairs.   
  
Ron swallowed, and grabbed Hermione's wrist. They'd have to risk running now.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he dragged Hermione from under the table and shuffled through the mostly darkened Burrow, leading her to the nearest door. Holding his wand at the ready, and his heart beating furiously, he shoved open the door and pulled Hermione with him.   
  
The cold enveloped him like a shroud, taking his breath away. wisps of snow flew past and stuck to his eyelashes briefly, and he blinked them away. Hermione was shivering and breathing heavily on his arm, which she was grasping in an apparent attempt to get closer to his warmth. They shuffled through a large snowbank, and Ron instinctively remembered something.   
  
He knew where they needed to go....  
  
Grabbing Hermione's waist tightly, he steered her to the left and urged her to run with him. He sensed she wanted to tell him something, but he couldn't wait for that. Pulling her into the forest, he muttered softly, "lumos".   
  
Gulping in air, and trying to see past the foggy haze of their combined breath in the light of his wand, he squinted into the darkness. His heart lifted when he finally saw the tree he had been looking for. Picking up speed, he tugged Hermione toward his goal.   
  
Just as he was almost there, he saw something moving in the periphery of the light from his wand. "Who's there?" he shouted, and at once felt like a fool. If it was an Death Eater....  
  
"Ron?"   
  
Ron smiled, relieved. "Dad?"  
  
His father ran up to him and pulled him into his arms. "Thank Merlin, son. You remembered."  
  
Ron nodded, and then pulled away from his father. "Who were they, Dad? What did they--"  
  
In the light of Ron's wand, his father looked grim. "Let's get inside first...Hermione's in her stockings."   
  
Ron turned at that and looked down at Hermione's feet. Sure enough, she didn't have any shoes on. She was looking at him now a bit disdainfully. Without thinking, Ron muttered, "Sorry love."   
  
He was surprised when Hermione flung her arms around him and said, "It's alright."   
  
Ron's father, with a small grin, turned and muttered something. He tapped his wand against the tree trunk, part of which seemed to melt away, and candlelight flowed from within. Ron's father stepped aside, and Ron anxiously pulled Hermione into the tree. Ron's father joined them, and waved his wand again. A wooden barrier appeared where a moment before there was an open doorway.  
  
Ron looked about eagerly. This was only the third time he remembered being in this room, and it had seemed to have become smaller then he had always imagined. It was, in fact, a room that looked like a hollowed out tree--but much larger than any tree could be.  
  
His family was there, all present and accounted for. His mother and Ginny had stood up and were greeting Hermione and looking at her feet, and his brothers were huddled together and they patted him in greeting. He noticed Charlie looked a bit worse for wear; he had a shiner and the knuckles on his right hand looked bloody. Ron turned around to his father.  
  
"So?" It was all he could say.   
  
"Ambush. Totally unexpected. Your mother and I were in bed; I was reading the paper. I heard something in the room above; so I apparated up there. Charlie was boxing with a gent, and then I heard something in the room below me. I popped down, and your mother was dueling with two Death Eaters. I shot a stun at him and told your mother to get you kids and come here. I fought for a while until Fred and George came in; they said they'd gone to get aurors. We finished with the Death Eaters we were dueling with at that point and apparated here.   
  
"When I found that you two were missing, I was really upset, Ron. That's why I stayed outside, just in case. I'm glad you made it." His father clutched his shoulder hard.  
  
Ron blinked. Something didn't fit. "But...I thought I heard someone crying..."   
  
His mother spoke up behind him, "That was me, dear. I couldn't find you in your room. I thought they'd taken you." She reached out unexpectedly and hugged him tightly. "You're such a good boy to remember to come here, my Ronniekins."   
  
Ron could hear Fred and George chuckling, and his ears burned.   
  
Before Ron could pull from his mother's arms and flash a rude gesture at his brothers, there was a loud tapping on the trunk outside.   
  
"It's Kingsley, sir."   
  
Ron's father apparated. A moment later, the wooden portal opened.  
  
Kingsley Shacklebolt entered, followed by Ron's father. The look on Kingsley's face was not encouraging.  
  
"I'm afraid that I have some bad news to pass along to you," he looked down at his feet.   
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"Luna, what are you doing in here? I told you not to--" Lupin snarled, looking rather put out.  
  
"But sir, I just thought Harry should know!" Luna said in a rather grating voice.   
  
Harry winced, and sat up.  
  
"What is going on? What happened?" He looked fiercely at Lupin, who was avoiding his eyes.  
  
After a brief moment of pregnant silence, Lupin sighed. Then he sat down on the edge of Harry's bed.   
  
"There was an attack on the Burrow, late last night."  
  
Harry felt his heart sink to his stomach, and he let out an involuntary gasp.  
  
"It's one of the reasons why I wanted to make you sleep--the first time. We didn't tell you what was happening...we thought maybe it might...." Lupin shook his head. "But never you worry, Harry. Your friends are safe. The Weasleys, and Hermione, are just fine."  
  
"But Luna--" Harry turned to Luna, who swiftly looked away when he tried to catch her eye. Harry turned to Lupin, who looked away, as well. "She told me there were deaths--and that Voldemort--"  
  
Lupin's expression was weary. "Yes, there were deaths. We lost two good aurors, Elphias Doge and Hestia Jones." He turned to Luna and gave her a sharp look. "However, to my knowledge, Voldemort wasn't there."  
  
Luna just shrugged and began to examine the nails on her left hand. Lupin arched an eyebrow and turned in Harry's direction.  
  
"Whatever--or whoever--the Death Eaters were looking for, they were desperate to find. Voldemort may have been behind it."  
  
Harry blinked. "Do you think he was after Ron? Trying to finish what he started?"  
  
Lupin sighed heavily. "I don't know, Harry. The Death Eaters that didn't get away are dead."  
  
Swallowing, and watching Lupin hunched over in defeat, Harry moved closer. "So...am I still going to be able to get out of here today?"  
  
Lupin smiled, not bothering to look at Harry. He nodded.  
  
"Yes--but you'll be joining the Weasleys at my house. 12 Grimmauld Place."  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 


	9. Power Hungry

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Nine---Power Hungry  
  
-----  
  
Harry turned to slowly to Luna, and then looked sharply toward Lupin. Lupin nodded.  
  
"It's all right, Harry." Lupin said softly, and gave Luna a brief look.   
  
Harry was concerned. Why had Lupin just blurted out that address?   
  
Lupin leaned forward and grasped his shoulder. "You can get up, get ready, and we'll all go in about an hour."   
  
"All?" Harry muttered.   
  
Luna piped up. "I'm going, too."  
  
"Huh?" Harry blurted.  
  
Lupin spoke, "It's for her safety. Luna lives very near the Burrow, and her house was attacked and ransacked. Nobody was home at the time, as her father is still recovering from his unfortunate incident last night. Dumbledore and I feel that it would be best that she join her classmates in safety. We're still not certain why the Death Eaters attacked Ottery St. Catchpole."  
  
Harry shook his head, as if to clear it. "Ottery St. Catchpole? You mean, they attacked an entire village?"  
  
Lupin nodded. "It may have been a diversion, but we don't why it was done."  
  
Harry swallowed, and tentatively slid off the edge of the bed.   
  
Luna looked away suddenly, stood up, and shuffled to the door. "Um--I'm going to go and stay with my father for a while, and I'll be ready when it is time to leave."

She opened the door and slipped out without a backward glance.  
  
Harry shrugged, briefly thinking of Luna's oddity before turning to Lupin. "Are my clothes in that wardrobe?" He gestured to it.  
  
Lupin turned halfway toward him and nodded.   
  
Harry busied himself with getting ready. He wasn't too thrilled at the prospect of going to 12 Grimmauld Place, and all the memories of Sirius it would bring back to him.   
  
If only Susan could have....  
  
Harry gritted his teeth. No, he couldn't think about her any more. It was useless; just as useless as thinking of his parents and Sirius. Nothing could bring them back.   
  
Concentrate on Voldemort, Harry thought to himself. It's time to think about destroying him, and all the misery he's caused, once and for all.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Mrs Weasley was muttering under her breath at the sight of the condition of her home. Hermione bit her lip, and pretended she didn't hear what Mrs Weasley was saying; but Mrs Weasley wasn't trying to hide her anger.   
  
Hermione continued tidying up Ron's parent's bedroom, which by far was the most ransacked one. Not only had the room been nearly demolished, but scorch marks from spells covered the walls.   
  
Mrs Weasley turned to Hermione. "You can go and finish getting ready to go now, Hermione dear. Thank you very much for your help." Patting her shoulder, she turned and muttered under her breath, "I refuse to leave my home in ruins."   
  
Hermione swallowed, nodded, and turned to slip out the door. Then she remembered something.  
  
"Mrs Weasley..." she turned, and gave Ron's mother a backward glance.  
  
"Yes, dear?"   
  
"Um...Ron and I decided..." Hermione swallowed, blinked, and looked toward Mrs Weasley's now scratched and scorched wardrobe.  
  
Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow. "It's about the Wesele Stone, isn't it? You've decided when you will...haven't you?"  
  
"Yes. Ron and I agreed that I would touch it tomorrow. But if I'm at 12 Grimmauld Place..." Hermione whispered the very last words, and looked down at her feet.  
  
There was silence for a moment, before Mrs Weasley spoke up. "I'm glad that Ron has become sensible and you've both worked this out."   
  
Hermione looked up to see Mrs Weasley cross over to the wardrobe and pull out her wand.   
  
"It's fine, dear--we'll just take it with us--" She muttered something under her breath, and tapped her wand to the wardrobe, where the secret compartment was. "When you're ready tomor--" She stopped mid-sentence; and then exhaled sharply, as she looked down into the drawer.  
  
Hermione instantly knew something was wrong. "What is it?"

She rushed up behind Mrs Weasley and looked down into the secret compartment.  
  
"It can't be!" Mrs Weasley stated loudly, gasping, and running her hand about in the drawer.  
  
Hermione's heart fell to her midsection as she looked down into the very empty space where the box with the stone should have been.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
"WHAT?" Ron cried. "GONE?"  
  
Ron's father was furious, and pacing the floor in front of the fireplace at 12 Grimmauld Place. Ron's mum was wringing her hands, and Hermione was sitting on the couch, looking rather numb. Bill and Charlie were leaning against the wall next to the fireplace, and Ginny was sitting next to Hermione, appearing confused.  
  
Ron's father turned to his mother, and said loudly, "I agreed to allow Fred and George to go back their shop, but maybe now I should apparate to them--"   
  
"No, Dad," Bill spoke up suddenly. Everyone in the room turned to him.   
  
Ron winced; bitterly angry. Every time he looked at his brother, he was reminded of the torture Bill had gone through.   
  
His brother stepped forward slowly, looking pensive. "I know what you're thinking, Dad, but I think Fred and George will be safe. Whoever took the stone already knows what it means--what power it holds. And...I'm probably responsible..." his sentence faded to silence. Ron's father stopped pacing and gave Bill a hard look.  
  
"What do you mean, son?"   
  
Ron watched as Bill swallowed visibly, and then spoke with a rasping voice. "When I was their captive...I'm sure I was given veritaserum. I have no way of knowing what I was asked. It's very possible I could have provided them with enough information--"  
  
Ginny's thin voice broke in. "Ok, hold on--I think I understand this curse--but why would anyone outside of our family want the stone?"   
  
Ron could see that Hermione was bursting to say something. As soon as Ginny finished her sentence, Hermione spoke loudly.   
  
"Voldemort."   
  
Everyone in the room cringed involuntarily, and Hermione sighed. "It's all too obvious; he wants the power. Mrs Weasley, you told me that--and correct me if I'm wrong--you said that Herneith put her essence into that stone. If it was possible to extract that essence--that power--they could become quite powerful. Powerful enough, in fact, to cheat death. You said it yourself that Herneith did cheat death; for as long as she could." Hermione inhaled briefly, and continued. "If Voldemort was aware that kind of power existed, he'd do anything to tap into it."  
  
Ron felt the anger well up into him, and he was burning with it. "Oh, this is the lowest of the fucking lows," he muttered under his breath.   
  
He had the strongest desire to punch something.  
  
Before he could act out this desire, there was a knock at the door in the other room. Mrs Black's portrait began to shout, and Ron's parents rushed out to greet the newcomers. Ron turned to the others, and watched as Bill and Charlie moved to quieten the portrait. Catching Hermione's eye, Ron grasped her hand and they both walked to the entryway.  
  
Harry had entered the door, followed by Lupin and Luna Lovegood. Ron was immediately puzzled as to why Luna was with them, but he didn't have time to think about it. He channeled some of the anger about the stone into the need to find out how Harry was.  
  
He was concerned by the way his parents were looking at Harry. Something was off; it was as if they were avoiding him somehow. Ron shook his head; were they doing it on purpose?   
  
Then he realized--they were still avoiding direct eye contact. So St. Mungo's hadn't been able to help keep Voldemort from channeling through Harry....  
  
Ron stepped forwarding, clutching Hermione's hand desperately.   
  
"Hi, Harry," he said thickly to Harry, who was being hugged energetically by Ron's mother.  
  
"Ron! Hermione! It's good to see you." Harry said, sounding genuine. Ron was a bit taken aback. Was this the same depressed, brooding Harry who'd gone to St. Mungo's just one day before? Apparently, the visit had done him good. Ron reached out to clap a hand on his friend's shoulder, and was awarded with a firm smile.  
  
"Harry, it's good to see you're okay," Hermione was saying softly, and giving Harry a brief hug. Ron vaguely saw Harry turn quickly to hug Ginny next, and his attention wandered.  
  
Ron's parents were talking softly to Lupin, and Luna was looking a bit lost, gazing wide-eyed at Ron's brothers, who were still trying to quieten Mrs Black's screeching.  
  
"Luna," Ron said evenly. Luna turned to look at him sharply.  
  
"Oh, hello Ronald," she said, her eyes boring into his, and looking oddly out of focus.  
  
Hermione was now grasping Ron's arm; Ron sensed her attention had just moved from Harry to Luna.   
  
"Luna! What happened; why did you come?" Hermione asked, and Ron thought for sure her friendly tone was forced. Even through the anger that was still eating away at him about the stone, he felt a corner of his mouth lift in amusement. Hermione was being jealous at a time like this?  
  
"My house was attacked, as was Ronald's. Professor Dumbledore thought I'd be safer here, at least for the time being. My father is still in St. Mungo's...he'll most likely join me here, if he's still ill before I go back to Hogwarts."   
  
Hermione relaxed slightly against Ron, and Ron finally had the chance to concentrate on his parents and Lupin. All three looked concerned, and Ron wished he knew what they were whispering about. He was about to pull Hermione toward them so he could hear, when Harry stepped in front of them.  
  
"Ron...Hermione..." Harry said, his eyes directed to the floor. "Can I talk to you both? In private?"  
  
Ron nodded, as part of him was hoping to tell Harry about everything that had happened within the last 24 hours. He exchanged a look with Hermione, and all three walked to an empty corner of the living room.  
  
Harry moved closer to them both, and then pulled them toward him. He avoided their eyes, and began to speak firmly.  
  
"There is something I've been keeping from you. I kept it a secret because it seemed like--well, first term--things were getting better, it seemed. I really didn't think I'd have to tell you until...well, until I thought...or needed--oh hell!" he stopped, and let out a frustrated sound. Ron noticed that he'd clenched his fists.   
  
Ron caught Hermione's eye briefly, and saw how worried she'd become. They both turned back to Harry, who was still clenching his fists and looking at the floor.  
  
"I guess...I just didn't want to see the looks on your faces. I didn't want you to pity me, any more than you already were. And then when I met Susan, I just forgot about everything else that was happening. But now, I need your help, more than ever before. I need you to promise me that you'll help me." At that, Harry raised his eyes, but didn't look at them directly.  
  
Ron's mouth had suddenly gone dry. He instantly knew how important this was, and instinctively said, "Definately, Harry. I promise to help you, you can count on that."   
  
Ron felt Hermione nod beside him, and then her soft voice said, "Right, Harry. We'll always be here for you--did you doubt it? I mean, because of Ron and--"  
  
Harry said sharply, "No! I never doubted it--but this is dangerous. It could kill you both, but you're the best mates I know, and the best witch and wizard. I hate to ask you to do this, and have to tell you this, but I need to know you'll be there until the end."  
  
Ron felt ill. He didn't want to know what Harry meant; he had an idea, but he didn't want to hear Harry say it out loud.  
  
Finally, after a tense silence, Harry began again. "Do you remember the prophecy? From the Department of Mysteries? The one that got shattered, the one with my name on it?"  
  
Ron nodded, and saw Hermione nod in kind beside him.   
  
Harry sighed heavily. "Well, the prophecy basically said that--" he stopped, and seemed to have lost his courage to continue.   
  
Ron heard Hermione clear her throat beside him, and say, "The prophecy? Harry, you mean it actually was a real prophecy, about you? I don't know if I believe--"  
  
Harry shuddered and let out an angry sound. "You'd better believe in this prophecy, Hermione. I can tell you for a fact I have a good reason to believe this one is true. And before I explain--I need to tell you what the prophecy said."  
  
Harry exhaled deeply, took a deep breath, and began to speak again; with a ferocity Ron had never heard before.


	10. Resolutions

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Ten---Resolutions  
  
-----  
  
When the secret that Harry had kept for so long was revealed, Ron felt crushed. All this time, he'd been facing the possibility he may need to destroy Voldemort; when Harry had been the one picked by some blasted prophecy. Ron's throat constricted, just thinking about the words from the prophecy.   
  
Turning to Hermione, Ron expected her to look as concerned as he was. Instead, a rather dubious Hermione turned to look at him. Ron risked a glance toward Harry, who was pursing his lips so hard they were beginning to turn blue. Harry looked like he wanted to say something, but was holding back.   
  
After a moment of intense silence, which was only interrupted only by the distant debating voices of Ron's father, Bill, and Charlie, Ron swallowed and risked another look at Harry. Harry's face had relaxed a bit, and he opened his mouth.  
  
"Erm...Hermione...do you have something you'd like to say?" Harry's eyes were narrow, but he was gazing at something just over Ron's right shoulder.  
  
Ron glanced to the right at Hermione now, who was biting her bottom lip. She nodded slowly, and then said very softly, "Harry....I know what Dumbledore said....and it does seem as though the prophecy means you. But...it's certainly not definite."  
  
Ron's eyes opened wider. He was stunned at her reaction. If Dumbledore thought the prophecy meant Harry, it must have. It was unlike Hermione to doubt the words of Professor Dumbledore. "Are you mad, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione turned to Ron sharply with a hurt look. "No, Ron, I'm not mad. I'm just stating the prophecy is sort of vague; and it's worded very non-specifically. I didn't say it doesn't mean Harry...I'm just saying, we can't jump to conclu-"  
  
Harry took a half step toward Hermione. "Conclusions? Hermione...." He reached up, running both hands through his hair and letting out an exasperated sound. "Hermione...this prophecy is part of why I'm so bloody famous--fifteen years! Voldemort found out about it, and went after me. Dumbledore--and everyone--thinks I'm some sort of hero; that I'm going to destroy You-Know-Who! You think I want it to come true? No, I don't--but this is what we've got to deal with, so--" Harry stepped back, and waved his arms about in frustration.  
  
All Ron could think of was to look at Harry mutely, secretly wondering if he should use his power to calm his best friend down. Deciding against it, he instead reached out and gripped Harry's shoulder, rather hard.   
  
"Harry," Ron said, his own voice sounding more powerful then he expected. Both Harry and Hermione looked at him expectantly.  
  
"Er...." Ron swallowed. "I, for one, have a personal score to settle with You-Know...er, Voldemort." He swallowed again. "Several scores, actually. So....count me in. But maybe...."   
  
Turning to Hermione, he looked deeply into her bottomless brown eyes. Breathing in heavily, he saw something there in those eyes; the look she got whenever an idea was brewing in her clever head.   
  
"Hermione...I get the feeling there's something else you'd like to tell us. Am I right?"  
  
She nodded silently, and her eyes glittered as she pondered deeply.  
  
But then she looked eagerly into Ron's eyes. "Before I do, though...I think we should tell Harry about..." her voice became very soft, "the Wesele Stone. If Voldemort succeeds....if we really have to destroy him....it's going to become more difficult then we could have ever dreamed possible."  
  
Harry let out a confused sound at that. "The what?"  
  
Ron felt his ears burn. He hadn't before considered how difficult it was going to be to explain this to his best friend...who also happened to be just as close a friend to Hermione.   
  
He then considered what Harry had just told them; and realized how incredibly daft he was.   
  
---------------  
  
Hermione breathed in deeply, watching the play of emotions over Harry's face. The three had long since holed themselves in one of the dark sitting rooms upstairs, and were curled in faded plush chairs pushed close to the large fireplace. Hermione eyed the dark marble gargoyles of snarling beasts that leered down at them from the high mantle, and shuddered. Ironically, the surroundings fit the tension that hung heavily around the three.  
  
Earlier, Hermione and Ron had been interrupted in their explanation of the Wesele Stone when Mrs. Weasley had announced a very late lunch. Hermione had expected the meal to be subdued; but instead talk bounded in abundance all around the table, and most of it centered on plans for the future. Her heart had swelled at this; it was as if a second wind had arrived. Hermione did notice, however, that Mrs Weasley kept tut-tutting whenever the conversation became more specific on plans of the Order, and silence fell over the table for several moments before becoming lively once more.  
  
At the end of the meal, Lupin told them that the return to Hogwarts was to be delayed until the next weekend, under a request from Professor Dumbledore. Lupin assured everyone it was a precautionary measure, and he wouldn't elaborate. Hermione remembered eyeing both Ron and Harry in turn, wondering what it meant.   
  
Now, as they sat in the silent, drafty room, more worries plagued her. Hermione found herself softly tapping her fingertips to her knee, continuing to watch Harry's reaction to her and Ron's combined efforts in explaining the last 24 hours. Crookshanks, who had cleverly evaded the Death Eaters during the attack on the Burrow, was curled on her lap.  
  
"Wow," Harry said, and shook his head a bit. "That's pretty intense."   
  
Hermione had noticed how embarrassed Ron had been through the entire ordeal, and now reached out to take his hand. It was the first time they had touched since they had left the lunch table, and Hermione's hand shook a bit. Ron squeezed her hard before threading his fingers between hers.   
  
Hermione turned to see Harry swallow, and his expression was apprehensive. After a moment, he looked up.  
  
"Ron," his voice was hoarse. "I'm sorry...for being such a prat. So much has happened. But...something made me realize while I was away that it's time to....start acting about it. We can't sit around any longer waiting for..."   
  
Harry shuffled in his seat for a moment, and then looked up at them again. "Hermione, you're right. If Voldemort succeeds in getting the power he wants from the stone, he'll be more powerful then he ever was. At least, based on what you both learned from your parents, Ron."  
  
Hermione nodded, leaned forward, and fingered her lips with her free hand. "I could swear I heard about Herneith someplace before. I must have read about her; possibly when I heard you went to Egypt summer after second year, Ron. I read a lot about Egypt back then. Maybe I should owl home and see if my mum can find and send some books from home."  
  
"Don't they have books about Egypt in the Hogwarts library?" Ron muttered beside her.  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows at him and said softly, "How would you know?"  
  
Ron shot her a peircing look. "I hate to surprise you, Hermione; but I can read, too."  
  
Hermione resisted the urge to smile and release a chuckle--and instead rolled her eyes at him. "Yes, they do have books on Egypt at Hogwarts...loads of them. But I want to start research on this right away. I need to ask for some other books from home, as well."   
  
Hesitating, she cleared her throat. "So...here's the deal. We have a lot to do--we have to get the stone back, that's a given; we have to prevent Voldemort from hurting anyone through Harry; and, most importantly, we have to make sure to protect Harry from Voldemort."  
  
Ron snorted. "Come on, Hermione. We have to _kill_ Voldemort. Admit it, it's inevitable. He's got to be destroyed, once and for all."  
  
"Right! That's what I've been trying to tell you _both_ ever since I got here," Harry spoke up, his voice grating. He sat up straighter.   
  
"Okay, okay," Hermione sighed. "I agree. He needs to be destroyed." She pursed her lips, and slipped to the edge of her seat, clenching Ron's hand tighter. Crookshanks leapt off her lap, and ran grumpily out the open door.   
  
"I have...an idea, of sorts," Hermione breathed, and bit her lip. "It may help us with the second objective I mentioned."  
  
"Ah, yes," Ron said deeply, and Hermione felt his voice resonating through her. She smiled briefly, before pushing on. She didn't know how Ron (or for that matter, Harry) would react to the idea. But she had to throw it out there.  
  
Throwing all caution aside, she leaned in closer to Ron and Harry. "Well...I know this is a bit out there, but it's just...." For a moment, looking at Ron, she began to wonder if she should say anything at all, but it was too late to go back now.  
  
"Okay; I'm thinking about Harry being a conduit to Voldemort's powers. Ron, you've shown that you can prevent this from happening, and that's great. But Ron...did you hear what your father said? What if Voldemort found a way to prevent you from stopping him, maybe even hurt you? If you knew more about Voldemort, if you knew more about what kind of person he was...do you think you could have more power in preventing his attacks?" Hermione exhaled at the last word.  
  
Ron looked at her intensely. "What do you mean?"  
  
Hermione clenched her teeth, afraid of his reaction, but knowing she couldn't hold back something that might help them. "Ginny, Ron. He possessed her, she knows him, more then she lets on. He's hidden somewhere inside her; I know it."  
  
"No!"   
  
Hermione started in her seat, not expecting the vehement response from Harry across from her. She'd always expected Ron to be the one who'd be angry about her idea. Now looking at Harry, her heart racing, she saw the genuine concern written all over his face.   
  
Harry was standing up now. He turned toward the fireplace, and his face was in silhouette as he said, "Hermione, that's not an option."  
  
Hermione stood up, letting go of Ron's hand. Ron swiftly followed suit.   
  
"Harry, why not? My idea isn't going to be--" she put her hand on his shoulder, and tried to turn him around. He resisted, still looking down into the fireplace flames.   
  
"Hermione," Ron said huskily behind her. "What do you mean? What can my sister do to help? I want to--"  
  
Harry turned stiffly, and nearly shouted. "I said no!"  
  
Hermione ignored Harry, and turned her attention to Ron. "Ron, you can use your powers on her to see if you can find out anything...anything at all about Tom Riddle through Ginny. Maybe find where he's vulnerable. I know it could be dangerous, but if you're doing it--"  
  
"Damn it, Hermione!" Harry really did shout this time. Hermione winced, and closed her eyes. Turning on her heel, she glared at Harry. They were standing so close to the fireplace, she could feel warm tendrils of heat brush her face.   
  
"Harry, I don't know what ideas you've got about Ginny, but haven't you considered that maybe she wants to help in this fight, too? You can't protect everyone all the time, you know! There's just the three of us! There's no way we can win if we don't recruit people, and Ginny is more powerful than you think! And it's not my place to say this, but I can think of several other accomplished people in and outside Hogwarts, even from other houses, who would like to help. I think you need to consider--"   
  
"No, Hermione. Just no," Harry said stiffly, his voice flat and low. Hermione knew Harry well enough to know not to push the point any further.   
  
She backed up, letting out a frustrated sound. Ron was looking at her, and his expression imperceptible. He turned back to eye Harry, and appeared puzzled.  
  
Hermione sighed again, and brushed her face with the back of her hand. "I think I'm going to turn in, then. I'll be down in my room, reading."   
  
She turned and started out the door, and a moment later, she heard footsteps behind her. Leaving the door open behind her, she started down the flight of stairs. A set of feet, unmistakably Ron's, was pounding down the stairs.   
  
"Hermione, please, wait," Ron said softly, and then caught up. Knowing it was best to stop, she slowed and turned. Ron ran flush into her body, but thankfully not hard enough to cause her to fall backward. His hands grasped her upper arms to steady her, and she looked up to find his face close to hers.   
  
"Ron," Hermione said softly, and something turned over inside her. She leaned into him, and then wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. Pressing her face hard into his chest, she hugged him, hopelessly wishing she could melt into him.   
  
"I'm here," Ron said, and his voice echoed through her. She nodded against him.  
  
After a moment, he spoke again. "I'd like to hear more about your idea."  
  
Hermione pulled back. "But Harry--"  
  
Ron looked down at her. "Ginny isn't his sister. You're right, though. Ginny wants to help, and I know we can keep her safe. Let's ask her about it tomorrow--after all, it'll be her decision. Have you talked to her about this?"  
  
Hermione shook her head, looking up the stairs. "I don't think we should keep this from Harry. Maybe we should wait."  
  
Ron was shaking his head. "Let's ask Ginny first, and if she says no, we'll let it go. If she says yes, we'll all talk to Harry."  
  
Hermione looked up at him. It seemed as though, as the days passed, more and more about Ron was surprising her. He was the same Ron she'd always known; but stronger.   
  
She counted on the hope that during these hard times, he would always be someone she could lean on. She nodded.   
  
Ron walked her down the hallway to her room, to her door; and it was a long time before Hermione pulled herself reluctantly from his arms and whispered good-night.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
A/N: Several people have tried to email me; I'm sorry that I can't reply, my email system is only allowing me to receive emails. To answer a question from a reader:  
  
I'm _VERY_ flattered that anyone would want to translate my stories into other languages to be posted elsewhere; but I feel hesitant in agreeing because I like to be in complete control of my work and where it posted. I'm a bit scared to allow my story to be translated, as I won't have a way to verify everything has been translated correctly. I'd prefer that it remain in English unless I can feel certain everything is being conveyed as I intended. Once again, I'm sorry. I'd love to have as many people reading my stories as possible, but I'd also feel hesitant and afraid that my work might be attributed to someone other than me. 


	11. Beyond the Blaze

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Eleven--Beyond the Blaze  
  
----  
  
Harry stared at the flames, mesmerized. Whatever they had done to him at St. Mungo's had dulled the pain in his scar to a minor ache; and he absentmindedly rubbed the scar once he heard Ron leave the room.   
  
It was rather calming, watching the flames licking greedily at the large logs in the grate.   
  
A curious thought came to his mind, unbidden. Fire was rather erotic-looking.   
  
Closing his eyes, he began to think about Susan; the memories filled him so suddenly, he felt like he'd been punched in the gut.   
  
Doubling over, he let his body slump into the chair behind him. He put his head in his arms and let out a choked sound. Curling up into himself, he sighed, and tried to clear his mind of all thought. No matter how hard he tried, she always crept up on him in the least welcome moments; and this was no exception.  
  
He wasn't sure how long he had been sitting there like that. It had been quite a while, he knew.   
  
He pulled himself upright and looked up into the fire again. The once large logs there were now thin, charcoal-black shards; and the fire had nearly burned itself out. Harry absentmindedly stood up and reached for a large log in the tender by the fire, and placed it securely into the weak flames.   
  
Prodding the coals a bit with a poker, he watched as the flames renewed--stronger than ever.  
  
He swallowed, and blinked. _Yes, that was true. As one flame grew dim, another could begin_.   
  
Shaking his head, he sighed. His logic was strange tonight, so fluid and so real. He'd never felt this clear-headed before, and wondered if he could ask the medi-wizards just what they'd done to him. It would come in handy during finals week.  
  
Just as he was placing the fireplace poker aside, he heard soft shuffling behind him. Moving one hand to hover over the wand in his pocket, he stood up slowly. Before he turned, he swallowed, and hoped she had come to him.  
  
-----  
  
Hermione lay on her side, her open book close to the lamp on the bedside table. She'd brought "Secrets of Dark Magic: A Guide to Self-Defense" with her from the Burrow, along with "Powers of the Siren and how to Defeat Them". They had become her bedtime reading for the last couple of weeks.   
  
Sitting upright, and running a hand through her tousled hair, she put her chin on her now upraised knees. What was the use? She practically had the entire books memorized, and hadn't found anything in them she didn't already know. Everything was becoming more complicated as time went on. What with the fact that Voldemort could very well be trying to harness the power of the Wesele Stone....  
  
She closed her eyes and tried to prevent the misery she felt from welling up inside her. If he succeeded, he'd not only be the most powerful wizard ever....possibly even more powerful than Dumbledore....and the actual power of the stone might be sacrificed.   
  
It could only mean the relationship she shared with Ron was doomed. She knew that if the stone were to be made powerless, it wouldn't guarantee that the Weasley curse was destroyed, as well. There was no way Ron and Hermione could ever move to the next level of their relationship and take such a risk.   
  
That was why she needed to read more about Herneith. Maybe there was something she was missing, a loophole. Hermione knew with a certainty the Weasley curse had never been published; she'd certainly have read about it before now. But the niggling thought remained that she had read about Herneith before; the name was startlingly familiar.  
  
Laying back on the bed, she rolled over to her other side, away from the light of the lamp, and closed her eyes. It was sort of nice having a room of her own at Grimmauld Place, but in a way she felt rather lonely. If only she could sneak into Ron's room, curl up beside him, it wouldn't hurt anyone. _They'd be perfectly innocent with one another_, she told herself fiercely. _Just because she was in bed with him didn't mean they would want to....  
_  
She pursed her lips tightly, and chastised herself. _You fool_, she thought. _Of course you'd want to. You'd spend all night aching for him, and he'd hate you in the morning for the torment. Just stay in your own bed and leave well enough alone.   
_  
She abruptly sighed angrily, and pounded her fists on the bed at each side of her.  
  
_Merlin's sake, though....why not be with him now,_ her mind shouted to her_. If this could be the last you'll ever be with him, take it!   
_  
Hermione shook her head. _No, better not. Just put out the lamp, close your eyes, and try to get some sleep. Don't think any further on it_.   
  
Turning abruptly and reaching to put turn down the light in the kerosene lamp, she gently blew it out. Displacing the books beside her, she turned down her quilts and slipped under them. The warm light from the fireplace across the room allowed glowing images to dance across the shadows, and made the carved woodwork on the wardrobe across from the bed look as though it was moving, writhing. Strangely enough, it was causing Hermione's body to stir in the most unexpected way.  
  
_Relax_, she told herself. _Just lay back, don't think about Ron, and get some sleep_.  
  
She assured herself that everything would look better in the morning.  
  
Her door opened.  
  
-----  
  
Ron tossed and turned in the darkness. His body refused to relax, and the thoughts tumbling across his mind certainly didn't help. It had never been easy to sleep at 12 Grimmauld Place, but tonight was the worst. He reached out and grabbed his second pillow and hugged it tightly.   
  
His lip twitched as he thought about how lonely it was here. If only I could go any lay next to Hermione, he thought. Maybe they could lay next to each other and talk things over, and once she made more sense of everything, he'd go back to his room.  
  
Ron sat up, about to move out of bed and grab his wand under his pillow, but stilled.   
  
_You're mad, Weasley_. _That's not the reason why you want to go to Hermione's room. You know what you'll start feeling after two minutes of holding her. Stay in bed_.  
  
He swallowed, standing undecidedly in the dark. What should he do?  
  
The answer came to him, so simply. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate on heavy breathing, willing it to speed up, and then there was swimming blackness for a brief moment.   
  
_A wand tip flared, and through it Hermione stirred in her bed. She said, "You shouldn't be in here."_  
  
-----  
  
Harry turned abruptly and saw someone he didn't expect. His fist twitched a bit as he clenched his wand, and he considered whether or not he should lower it.   
  
"Harry, can I talk to you?" she said, and was looking intensely at the floor. Her finger was twirling a lock of blonde hair, and she was wearing a shockingly bright pair of purple pajamas. On her feet were large poofy brown slippers. Harry slowly lowered his wand, withholding the tremendous laugh he wanted to expel.  
  
Instead of laughing, he shrugged and leaned against the back of the chair he'd been sitting on. "What do you want to talk about, Luna?"  
  
"Oh, nothing really. I just can't sleep. It's really strange here, isn't it?" She said all of this matter-of-factly, as if the whole topic rather bored her. Tossing her lock of hair aside, she moved to hop into the chair that had been occupied by Ron earlier that evening. Crossing her legs primly, she let her right leg sway back and forth as she looked toward him dreamily.  
  
Harry let out a soft grunt and moved to sit across from her. "How did you know I was here?"  
  
"Well, I was wandering and heard someone stoking a fire, and I saw the light. Have you been to bed at all?" She barely looked at him as she examined the nails on her left hand.  
  
"No. I'm not really tired," Harry muttered.  
  
Luna laughed loudly. "What with all the sleep you had at St. Mungo's, I can see why." She continued to stare at her hand as if uninterested.  
  
Harry frowned and eyed her. She could be rather nice at times, but most of the time tremendously annoying. Her words certainly hadn't been that annoying, but her indifference was.  
  
There was silence for a moment, before Harry stood up abruptly. "I think I'm going to turn in. Good-night." He headed for the door.  
  
"Wait," Luna said, and Harry hesitated. It was the first indication of interest he'd heard in her voice ever since they'd left St. Mungo's.   
  
"What?" he said, rather harshly, as he swung around to look at her.   
  
Luna didn't even blink, and instead said, "Were you waiting for someone?"  
  
Harry did a double-take, not expecting that particular question. He opened his mouth to say no, but hesitated. Maybe he had been waiting for someone, but he didn't really expected them to come.  
  
Luna stood up slowly. "I thought so. Good-night." She casually brushed past him and walked calmly out the door.  
  
Harry shook his head. What the devil was all that about?  
  
----  
  
"You stay on your side of the bed, do you hear me?"   
  
Hermione pushed Ron to the other side of bed, even as he protested and tried to ease his way back toward Hermione.   
  
"I'll pull your hair if you try that again," she uttered in a low voice, pushing Ron bodily away from her. It wasn't what she wanted to do--she'd rather pull him toward her, but under the circumstances it was best option. She'd tried to get him to leave, but he had refused. And she certainly wasn't angry enough to hex him, considering the thoughts she been having shortly before he arrived.  
  
Ron snorted. "Pull my hair? That's a hoot. I'm really trembling; do it now, I might like it." Ron arched his head toward her.   
  
Hermione glared at him, hoping the light from the flames in the fireplace revealed her irritation. "I'm not talking about _that_ hair, Ronald."   
  
She saw his mouth fall open, and then he pulled back a bit. His voice was low as he uttered, "You wouldn't dare."   
  
Hermione rolled over, away from him. "Try me."   
  
Ron grunted a bit, and Hermione felt the bed rock slightly with his movements. Expecting to feel his hands on her, she was surprised to hear him mutter, "good-night" from a distance.  
  
Smiling, she almost laughed out loud.  
  
Her smile faded as she thought it was good to feel like laughing, when everything else seemed to be falling apart around her. 


	12. Dream Scrying

Praesentia  
  
Chapter Twelve--Dream Scrying  
  
_"(Thoth) I invoke,   
Blessed power of dreams divine,   
Angel of future fates,   
Swift wings are thine,   
Great source of oracles to human kind,   
When stealing soft,   
and whispering to the mind,   
Through sleep's sweet silence and the gloom of night,   
Thy power awake the sight,   
To silent souls the will of heaven relates,   
And silently reveals their future fates."   
_  
----  
  
She was running up stairs, many of them. She was all too aware of the hollow sound of her breathing. It was harsh and breathless, almost desperate, and she didn't understand why.  
  
A voice, which had to be middle-eastern (or was it?) was whispering now, above the sound of her ragged breathing. Reaching a landing, the voice called out to her, and she knew she no longer needed to climb.  
  
Jogging down the corridor, she reached a corner and clung to it, almost fearing what she would see around it.  
  
The long hallway stretched out in front of her. It was the same as before, and the strange voice still beckoned. Telling herself she must go down the hallway, she began to run. Again, she found herself struggling against the current of something pulling her legs back. This time, she was angry.  
  
"I'm not giving up this time, do you hear me? I need to get through that door!"   
  
Hearing her very clear voice reflected back to her from the walls was startling. She was surprised by the ferocity of her will against whatever was pushing her down this hallway. She would get through the door this time. Nothing would distract her from her goal.  
  
The voice was still urging her onward, and once again she struggled. It became harder and harder to move her legs.   
  
"Just one more step! One more!"  
  
Her voice was choked as she forced each leg to move one more time. And she was there.  
  
Her fingers were on the door handle. With the last of her strength she twisted it open with her fingertips.  
  
She fell through the doorway, a sense of exhilaration flowing through her. Her legs were burning with an intensity she had never felt before. Struggling to stand, she tried to brush off some of the grime that now clung to her from the dirty floor she had fallen onto. Sweat mingled with the dirt, and she knew she must look a mess; but it didn't matter now. She'd made it.   
  
The maddening voice that had pushed her on was gone now, but she knew its presence was still there, watching her. She could feel it. Swallowing, she shook herself and tried to drink in her surroundings.   
  
The room she had fallen into was probably one of the dreariest places she'd ever been in; it was far worse than 12 Grimmauld Place. Cobwebs covered every inch. Several cells that looked like cages were built into the walls, and the beds inside them were filthy and stained. She was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, afraid the think in this room.   
  
A soft moan interrupted her thoughts. Whirling about in fright, she eyed the dark corner behind her, where the sound was coming from. She pulled her wand out from inside her cloak.  
  
"Help me...please help," the voice called, and it sounded vaguely familiar.  
  
She moved toward the dark cage, and saw something moving inside it. A frail figure drew itself up and fell against the bars toward her. She gasped.   
  
"Viktor?"   
  
"Herm-oh-ninny...please help," Viktor flailed his arms out to her from between the bars. He looked dreadful; his arms were covered with festering sores and his face and chest were tremendously pale. He was covered at the waist by nothing more than a tattered rag that could have once been shorts.  
  
"Viktor..what happened? Where's Milena?" She instantly thought of Viktor's fiance, wondering if something had happened to her.  
  
Rushing closer to the cage, she saw a hint of confusion on Viktor's face. It was gone quickly, however, and he began waving his arms more energetically. "Please, Herm-oh-ninny, get me out of here. I luff you, Herm-oh-ninny. They've hurt me, and you can help me. Please..."  
  
She frowned, strengthening the grip on her wand. "Who hurt you, Viktor? How did you get here? Where is this place? What happened to your family?"  
  
"Hermione, I need you. Please, let me out," Viktor rasped, his eyes bugging, and his breathing intensifying. He continued to flail as his thin arms struggled against the bars.  
  
She knew something was wrong. It was the way he was speaking; it simply wasn't right. Knowing this person wasn't Viktor, she must continue with caution. Whoever it was, they were obviously in distress. She knew she had to help him somehow, but she also knew she couldn't trust him.  
  
Raising her wand, she pointed it toward this man who looked like Viktor. "I know you're not Viktor. Who are you and what do you really want?"  
  
"I want out!" the man uttered harshly, and this time grasped the bars and rattled them with more strength then he had exhibited before. He let out a tremendous cry, a very distinctive cry. Suddenly she knew what she had to do.  
  
Waving her wand with a flourish, she pointed it directly at him and shouted clearly, "_Aperio vobis_!"  
  
The figure of Viktor shriveled instantly, and in its place was a very nasty looking creature. It had pointed ears like a cat with dark fur covering its body. It opened its mouth to her to stick out its lizard-like tongue and it flashed its very red eyes. It was a formschieber, a very rare and very deadly creature. She'd read about them from a book in the restricted section of the Hogwarts library. They were only supposed to exist only in the Swiss Alps, and she was sure one hadn't been seen in at least a century.   
  
The formschieber was now jumping up and down on the dirty bed, making clouds of choking dust swirl about her. It cackled heartily. She moved away quickly from the cage, trying to breathe, and was sincerely glad she hadn't let it out. Its power was to use a memory to lure the victim their death. One bite from it and she would have died a very painful, very long, and very grotesque death.  
  
Turning away from the formschieber, she bit her lip and wondered if there was a way out of this room. No longer afraid and more sure of herself, she walked the perimeter of the room several times. Once, she tried to open the door she'd come in from, but it wouldn't budge. None of the spells she used on it worked, either.  
  
"Oh, come on," she muttered in frustration. It was becoming hot in the room as warm sunlight flowed in through a cracked window high above.   
  
"Hermione, help me," a new voice whispered as she wiped her grimy brow.   
  
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. The formschieber was trying to trick her again.  
  
"Hermione, please...I love you."  
  
She turned to take a look at the cage in the dark corner. The formschieber was still jumping about, now throwing something dark and stinking at her. It keep missing but was cackling with glee.  
  
She shook her head. Ron? Where was he?   
  
Running the circumference of the room again, she could now hear the other voice. The voice of the woman.  
  
"What is it? Where do I go?" she shouted, and ran around again. The voice got louder every time she came to a particular wall.  
  
And then she saw it. Light was glimmering through what had to be a crack in the brick wall.  
  
She rushed toward it, but then her body was being pulled back.  
  
"No!" she muttered irately.  
  
"Hermione, let me kiss you. Let me love you."  
  
"Let me go...I need to--"  
  
----  
  
Hermione opened her eyes. She was being held very tightly, and sunlight was pouring in her window and falling directly on her face. Ron was kissing her neck. She prodded him, but he continued to mutter incoherently against her. She knew at once he was still deep asleep. She could feel the hardness of his very male body pressed into her hip, and she inhaled sharply. A warm coil of heat flowed through her body instantly.  
  
Grasping his shoulders very tightly, she nearly shouted. "Ron, wake up."  
  
He let out a little gasp and pulled away suddenly. "What? How did I--?"  
  
"You were dreaming," she said, and gave him a penetrating look.  
  
"Oh," he muttered. "Damn it." He rolled over completely and put an arm over his eyes.  
  
Hermione sighed and pushed the quilt off her. "I don't think I'll need to ask what your dream was about."  
  
"Oh Merlin, it was so..."   
  
She tut-tutted as she riffled through her wardrobe for clothes. "You'd better leave, Ron. I'd like to join your lovely fantasy, but I've got work to do."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Still riffling through her clothes and choosing what she was going to wear, she placed it aside. "I've got to go and talk to your mum, and you'll have to talk to Ginny."  
  
Ron was moving about on the bed now. The springs creaked and she heard him padding barefoot toward her. He gasped.  
  
"It's fucking cold; that's enough to cool me off! I'll light a fire. Now what are you babbling about, Hermione?"  
  
"Hush, Ron. Just light your fire and I'll meet you downstairs," Hermione had already stripped off her thick pajamas and tried to contain her shivers as she tugged on her jeans and jumper.   
  
Ron was crouched before the fireplace, rubbing his eyes blearily and muttering swear words without impunity. Hermione noticed he had just lit a piece of kindling and was placing it into the fireplace, when he looked up at her.  
  
"For Merlin's sake, Hermione..._what the bloody hell_--?" Ron was staring up at her. "You're already dressed, it's probably not even eight yet, and you're up and about and all excited. What's going on?"  
  
She sighed, and shook her hair free from the long braids she wore to bed. "I don't have time to explain. I just need to talk to your mum, and maybe things will make more sense. I also need those books now, so I've got to send for them. In the meantime, can you please talk to your sister about what we agreed on last night? I would so appreciate it, Ron."   
  
"But--"  
  
Hermione took the time to stoop down quickly and kiss Ron gently on the lips. She stood abruptly, slipped her feet forcibly into her trainers, and opened the door. She skipped down the stairs two steps at a time.  
  
----  
  
Ron was tremendously puzzled. Once he'd actually woken up enough to think about the events of the morning, he certainly couldn't think of any reason why Hermione would need to talk to his mum. It had been such an urgent need, it must have been very serious. While lighting the fire, he briefly wondered if it had something to do with him and his agreement to his mother not to be intimate with Hermione until the stone was recovered. He'd originally voiced the discussion to Hermione, and ever since she'd been insistent they follow his mother's instructions.  
  
The thought had been dismissed immediately. She would never go to his mum and tell her he'd sneaked into her room last night.   
  
Of course, that didn't stop the rather large pit of fear that grew in his throat every time he thought about how angry his mum would be if she knew about it. Especially when he knew he'd been groping Hermione that morning and wasn't sure how much he'd done to her.  
  
He was now searching for his sister even though his need for breakfast kept trying to pull him downstairs. He was also extremely curious about what Hermione was up to, but he figured he'd better keep her on his good side by doing what she wanted him to.  
  
Nearing Ginny's door, which she was now sharing with Luna, he hesitated and was about to knock. The discussion he heard from inside, however, stopped him cold.  
  
"But I thought...I mean...didn't you like Ron?" Ginny was saying in a confused voice. "I mean, it's really hard to get over the first person you love."  
  
"Well, that was so silly, wasn't it? I was so young back then. After all, he was the first boy to ever kiss me. It didn't mean anything, though. When I saw him at Hogwarts, I have to admit I thought he was good looking. But he could care less. He really loves her, doesn't he?" Luna said crisply, neutrally.  
  
"Yes, he does. But who do you like now?"  
  
"Mmm, can't say. I told you, though, that's not the reason why I wanted to talk to you. How did we get on this topic? I wanted to tell you I think someone really likes you...someone you've wanted to like you for a very long time," Luna said, with the slightest bit of irritation edging her voice.  
  
Ginny let out a huge sound of frustration. "I already know about that, Luna. It doesn't matter now. I'm in love with Neville. I don't care if anyone else has those feelings for me."  
  
"You're lying," Luna said matter-of-factly.  
  
"No, _I am not lying_! Why would you think that?" Ginny breathed hotly.  
  
"Nobody can love someone like you did and then get over them that fast. Sure, you've tried to lose yourself in these other boys, but I know you, Ginny. We've been friends for a long time," Luna said soothingly.  
  
"You obviously don't know me very well," Ginny said in low voice, and Ron swallowed. He knew that voice, the voice that said you've almost crossed the line.  
  
Without warning, the door Ron was practically leaning against flew open. Ron stepped back swiftly and shuddered. Ginny gave him a great withering look.  
  
"Ron? What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, listening in on private conversations? _You great prat_!" She slapped his shoulder fiercely and walked past him to stomp down the stairs.  
  
"Ginny...damn it, I need to talk to you!" Ron whimpered harshly after her. She flashed a rude gesture behind her back.  
  
Now Ginny was angry with him. He'd never hear the end of this.  
  
He sighed and clenched his fists until he heard Luna laughing inside Ginny's room.  
  
"You have no sense of timing whatsoever," she said lightly through her laughter and brushed past him out the door.  
  
Ron shook his head. Was there--or was there not--a double meaning in that?  
  
He scratched his head for a minute, looking at Luna's retreating back, and started to walk numbly down the stairs with only one thought.  
  
He was too young to let women get to him.  
  
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Credit for the dream scrying poem at the start of this chapter goes to a website on the topic. I'm apparently not allowed to post the link. I wanted to make you aware I didn't write it.  
  
Please keep up with me on this, folks. It'll all make sense soon, I promise. Well, at least I hope it will. 


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